


The Legendary Harem Knight

by Aventi



Category: Devil May Cry, Highschool DxD
Genre: Action, Adventure, Fantasy, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Supernatural Elements, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-19 18:43:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4756955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aventi/pseuds/Aventi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sexy Angels and sexy Devils, what's a professional Devil Hunter supposed to do when the former prey on humans and the latter protect them? Eat pizza and rock on! Rated M for gore, language and theme. OP classic Dante. Nephalem traits. Returning DMC characters. Complete story will be novel-sized.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Nephalem's Wish

**Author's Note:**

> I have received countless messages scolding me for what happens in chapter one. If you're still able to swallow the story after that, would you kindly be open to giving it another chance? I promise, it gets much better, just don't turn your back just yet.
> 
> That'll be it for now. Thanks!

# A Nephalem’s Wish

 

One second the sun was setting, casting coppery rays over the city. The next, a sudden darkness had fallen upon the world.

Black wings came out in an explosion of feathers, floating down onto the ground.

The schoolboy fell on his butt and his eyes widened with shock.

“I had fun, for a while,” the woman said, a black-haired beauty, scantily clad and with wings sprouting from her back. “I will treasure what you’ve bought for me.” Her mocking smile betrayed her words, raising an arm with a rosy bracelet clinging to her wrist.

The boy held up a trembling arm. “Yuuma-chan…”

“Please, die.” Yuuma said, flashing a wicked grin. Motes of gathering light pooled in her hands and a crimson spear of light solidified in her clenched fingers.

Neither of them was aware of the figure watching from the side, sitting at the bench, his leg bent over the other nonchalantly.

“Oh, baby, that was gorgeous!” he called out, extending his arm and resting it over the bench’s headrest. “I’ll pay to see that again.”

The winged woman whipped toward the figure, the spear still poised to penetrate the defenseless boy. Her eyes scrunched up in a scowl. Boobs bounced and the booty flashed. Otherworldly beauty, that’s what it was.

“Want me to say that again? Sorry, I’m new here. Gotta practice the language, no?” His voice oozed with confidence. The man checked on his fingernails; morsels of pizza had a way of ending up in unexpected places.

“This is none of your concern. Scamper back to your burrow or I’ll squash you like the bug you are,” her smile was back, sweet, sexy and evil. Just the way he liked it.

“Bugs can be dangerous, you know,” the man slapped his thigh. That Gigapede had been testament to that. Of course, that didn’t stop him from squashing the gigantic millipede. “They bug me out, those sons of bitches. Go on, squash them, I’ll even help you.”

The woman laughed, bitter and shrill. “Let’s start with you, shall we?”

“But,” the man held up a finger, his tone dropping its carefree playfulness. “That boy is no bug. Surely, you can tell the difference.”

“That’s exactly why. All humans are weak. They deserve to suffer. They must know their place as the inferior beings they are!”

“Didn’t know big birds had taken to preying on humans!” He knew the teasing had done its job. With his superhuman reflexes, he dashed aside. The spear hissed in the air and burned through the bench.

“That was hot! Now, behave. And I’ll ask you for a date, too,” he stood inches behind the woman. He leaned in and whispered. “I’ll let you in on a little secret: you just might be my type.”

The Fallen Angel whipped around, slashing empty air with a newly made weapon of light. When she turned, the man lay on the ground next to her victim, striking a sunbathing pose.

“Name’s Dante,” the man flashed a quick smile. His long, crimson, two-tailed coat sprawled on the grass. He reached out his hand and the boy shook it. “The hot ones tend to be dangerous. If a girl asks you out, chances are there’s a catch. Tell me boy, what do you like the most in a woman?”

Ah, the discomfort in his eyes. He could make it go away. “Wh-what’s with you?” the boy asked, in a state akin to speechlessness.

“Look out!” In a blur, both Dante and the boy were gone from their previous spot. A spear of light exploded on the ground a split second later, charring the gravel and leaving black marks of ash.

The Fallen Angel looked around frantically, in search of her victims that had suddenly vanished from sight. She spotted them sitting at another bench. The boy trembled from head to toes. Dante had his arm curled around the boy’s shoulders. His long, white bangs of hair fell neatly next to his eyes.

“Oppai, huh?” Dante whistled in appreciation. “That means boobs, right?” He raised his arm toward the sky in a rather ceremonious fashion. The boy followed its trail as it made an arc over his head. “Mighty monuments of the flesh, nurturers of humankind, the milk of life! The world would be somber place without teats for us, guys, to feast on!”

“What are you doing?” The Fallen Angel’s lips trembled with fury. “Come here and face me! I don’t know what you are, but human, you are not.”

“I’m just giving _the talk_ , to our friend here.” Dante turned back to the boy. “Tell me, how many boobs have you fondled?”

“N-none, yet.”

“None?! That’s outrageous! And you were hoping to do that tonight?” Dante made a dramatic gesture toward the Fallen Angel. “You _evil_ woman! How could you?! Dashing the dreams of such a promising young man! You’re heartless!”

The Fallen Angel shuddered with visible fury. Her nostrils flared and her abundant bosom heaved up and down.

“But we can fix that!” Dante’s gleeful tone came back. He pulled out his leather wallet and held a yen bill between his fingers. “You want this for your thong?”

“DIE!” Yuuma screamed at the top of her lungs, her eyes frenzy with madness.

“Oops,” Dante seized the boy by the wrist. “Here we go again!”

The spear of light utterly obliterated the wooden bench into a jumbled mess of sizzling remains.

“Every show’s gotta come to end, right?” Dante whipped out a pair of sister handguns and aimed at the Fallen Angel. “Ebony, Ivory, time to get to work!”

Yuuma let out a screeching, raucous laugh. “You really are more stupid than you look! If you think that’s going to kill me, do the world a favor and shoot yourself instead!”

“These babies aren’t for killing the likes of you.” Dante cocked his head to the side, flashing a mischievous smile. “But they hurt like hell! Cover your ears, boy!”

The teenager had been staring at the guns with something akin to awe. He only managed to cover his ears at the last moment before the first ringing bang exploded, resulting in a series of flashes emitting from the guns’ muzzles, recoiling toward the wielder with every shot, the bullet casks raining down from their chambers as they were used and discarded, making room for the next projectile to spark and impact on the Fallen Angel.

Yuuma shrieked, covering her eyes. Her black, eagle-like wings flung out before her, partly shielding her from the storm of metal relentlessly striking her body, and though the bullets bounded off and clinked on the ground, her pained expression was proof enough they were damaging.

Dante ceased fire, and flipped and spun the black-and-white guns about his fingers like a fabled gunslinger. He brought each of them delicately to his lips and blew on the muzzles, the smoke wafting away in the air.

“She’s… she’s still alive!” the boy exclaimed, flinching back. Dante rolled his eyes. Well, duh. Explanations would come later. Maybe some coin, too, for the trouble.

Yuuma gingerly lowered her wings from her face, taking a sweeping look from the wide-eyed boy, to Dante, his red coat rippling down to his lower legs. Her lips twitched into a sour smile.

“You can keep doing that, but it won’t stop me. You’re bound to run out of bullets some time, right?” her mocking smile returned. “I will cause you the pain you caused me, tenfold!”

“Eh, actually,” Dante held up his guns, turning them to show their sides, gleaming, the words ‘Ebony’ and ‘Ivory’ engraved in gold lining on the respective pistol. “These sweeties have bottomless clips. Neat, huh?”

“Yuuma-chan, why?” the boy inquired. A tear shone in his eye before rolling down his face. So sentimental. “I thought… you liked me…”

The Fallen Angel exploded with raucous laughter. “Ha, pathetic worm! I should feel pity for whoever asked you out next!” Ouch, that hurt.

Dante curled an arm over the boy’s shoulder. “Don’t let the old vulture let you down. You have a life full of success ahead of you. You know women outnumber men in the world?”

He felt the new auras manifesting before he actually caught a glimpse of their black feathers, or heard a squeak of their boots on the ground. “Friends of yours, I suppose?” Dante said, taking a cursory glance around the park. Three more Fallen Angels had arrived at the scene.

“Took you long enough, huh, Dohnaseek?” Yuuma said, her lips curling into a wicked grin.

“Just taking care of the Holy Priestess, keeping her safe,” the Fallen termed as Dohnaseek responded. He tilted his fedora toward Dante. “These humans causing you trouble, Raynare?”

So that’s what she was really called.

“The handsome one isn’t human,” one of the female Fallen took that moment to speak up, regarding Dante with a lustful glance. Her dark, blue hair tumbled down her back, her bangs hooding her eyes dark, blue eyes. It was natural for Dante to see clearly and distinguish such details in the dark.

“I figured as much, Kalawarner,” Raynare snapped, flinging an arm out toward Dante. “This piece of filth is giving me a hard time taking out the Longinus wielder!”

“Sweet Raynare, our queen and leader always needing our help,” the child sneered. She sprouted black wings on her back. Her blonde hair fell in twin tails to either of her head. She wore a Gothic Lolita dress with white frills down at the hems. She had the outward appearance of small girl, but Dante knew better. Malevolence and spite hid behind those blue eyes of hers.

“Longinus? Hey, boy,” Dante broke up the tension as the child and Raynare exchanged glaring daggers before they could tear at each other’s throats. He shook the boy from his frightened state. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Hyoudou, Issei…”

“Alright, Issei, you gotta learn not to take what doesn’t belong to you, you hear me?” Dante wagged a finger in denial for emphasis. He turned back to the Fallen Angels, who were closing in on them. “See, my friend here didn’t take your Longinus. I mean, how’s he supposed to have it? Isn’t that what the spear that killed Jesus was called?” He ignored the outraged scowls he was receiving. “I don’t know what you guys are yapping about, so if you don’t mind, my friend and I will be taking our leave.”

“Shitting your pants now, aren’t you?” Raynare craned her slim neck, eyeing Dante and Issei with contempt.

“Look, I specialize in hunting Demons, but I will not stand by while you kill humans, even if you’re Angels,” Dante’s expression turned serious, his lips curling downward with disgust. “At this point, how different are you from a Demon, really?”

“How dare you lump us together with that bunch?” Raynare snarled, her beautiful visage contorted with repulsion.

“Careful, Raynare,” Dohnaseek spoke up. He watched Dante with genuine interest. “I would not do to underestimate this… being. Surely, I’m not only one who can feel his aura?”

“Dohnaseek speaks the truth,” Kalawarner said, her eyes narrowed. “The handsome one is dangerous.”

“You catch on quick, don’t ya?” Dante flashed her a smile. Kalawarner might have blushed a little, turning her head to the side slightly.

“Dante-san, look out!” Issei suddenly cried out. How could he have taken down his guard?

His eyes widened in response. Dante wrapped his arms protectively around Issei and bolted out of the way as the spear of light grazed his arm, making a small tear in his coat, a drop of blood seeping out.

“Issei, get down!” Dante ordered. Issei dropped down to his knees, covering his head. Out of nowhere, he drew a guitar case.

“Are you going to make us go deaf?” Raynare sneered, watching as Dante leisurely unclasped the guitar case with a muted click.

But there was no guitar anywhere to be seen. Cushioned on black velvet was a two-handed claymore sword, its pommel composed of crowned spikes and its crossguard a screaming skull, gleaming with black polish. Dante gripped the hilt and brought the blade up to his chest, pointing the lethal tip toward Raynare.

“Rebellion, let’s get this party started, shall we?”

“Look out, that’s a Demon Sword!” Dohnaseek exclaimed, taking a step backward. “But how?”

“What do you mean, ‘how’?” Dante wore a bemused expression. “I just hold it like this, by the grip.” He twirled the two-handed blade about his wrist. “It’s a pretty simple affair, if you ask me.”

“The boy poses a threat to us, so he must be eliminated,” Raynare said. The flicker of apprehension had returned to her eyes as they glued on to the sword, Rebellion.

“He doesn’t look incredibly threatening, does he?” Dante gestured idly at Issei, prostrated on the ground, trembling with fear. “Who wants some?” He pointed Rebellion at each and every Fallen Angel. “Issei, I want you to run for it. I’ll cover you.” Issei looked up timidly. He nodded.

“Alright, let’s rock!” Dante darted forward.

Raynare had barely enough time to block the incoming Demon Sword with a hurriedly summoned light spear. They held each other back with sheer strength. Their power struggle was interrupted as Dante whirled around and dashed back to Issei, deflecting the hurled spear of light aside. His fingers burned a little. Not even Berial’s fire had affected him this way. These spears of light actually hurt.

In a spurt of speed, he dashed toward the blonde girl, who had already drawn a spear. Singling them out was the key, and starting with the weakest one was the right decision.

“Stinger!” Dante proclaimed, thrusting Rebellion forward, lunging toward the little girl, set to skewer her right through the center. She wouldn’t even have had time to react from his superhuman speed.

“Watch out, Mittelt!”

Kalawarner had been ready, averting his blade away from the girl with her spear and retaliating. He somersaulted, the tip of the lance grazing past his chin as he flipped in the air and landed back on his feet, standing upright.

“Dante-san!” Issei exclaimed.

He saw, but it was already too late. The four Fallen Angels had taken to flight. All of them materialized spears of light. Even in his heightened state of awareness and the adrenaline rushing through his body, avoiding all the spears would’ve been a huge feat. He could do this alone. But protecting the boy was beyond his reach at this point.

Dante moved in a blur. It had been a decision that he made in a fraction of a second. He shoved Issei to the side and out of the way, taking the brunt of the attack himself. The four spears of light shore through his body and out his back, charring his skin, melting his innards. Blood leaked out of his mouth as he coughed it up and splattered it on the ground. Dante wiped his mouth.

Issei rose trembling, gazing horror-struck at the several holes that opened up across Dante’s bloodied torso. “Dante-san…!”

Dante gave him yet another smile, his teeth smeared crimson. “I’m sorry you were a victim to this world…” Heaven and Hell always had a way of dragging humans off into their crossfires.

“No, what are you doing?” Issei yelled, holding out his hand. Dante’s thin smile broadened into a dangerous, deadly smirk. The white-haired man held out Rebellion, twirled the blade around toward himself, and plunged it into one of the holes created by light spears. The blade slid in soundlessly, staining it with blood across its length.

“Giving up, already?” Raynare sneered. “I knew you’d take the easy way out the moment you couldn’t take it anymore.”

Huh, they did not get it. He would show them.

He allowed the raw, demonic energy to wash over him in a sudden explosion of power, absorbing it into his every fiber, bathing him with the strength of the fires of Hell. The red coat merged with skin and turned into a demonic hide of scale. Withdrawing Rebellion from his chest, where there once had been a hole, newly formed skin had reknit, closing the grisly wounds as if they never had been there in the first place. His human traits vanished in a split second, turning his peach-colored skin, into black, rocky leather. Fiery veins blazed across the entirety of his body like molten lava, running their course through his legs, chest, arms and neck. His hands and feet were deformed and elongated into razor-sharp demon claws and talons. Where his face had been, now the crimson mask of a demon had replaced it, slits for eyes glowing red with a thirst for blood.

In his current state, he had mere seconds to use this new burst of vigor, and he knew it.

The Fallen Angels and Issei alike watched in dismay, their jaws dropped.

“His power matches that of a high-class Devil!” Dohnaseek yelled, calling forth yet another spear, as did his counterparts.

Dante took to the air, a pair of midnight black, leather wings with spikes outstretching far to either side of him.

The four spears of light clashed against one another in an explosion of light, barely missing their target. Dante’s wings came together into a cocoon of blackness, spinning forward in the air like a drill of darkness and blurred steel.

Raynare flung her wings, dashing out of the way as the spin of death hissed past her side.

Like a homing missile, Dante steered in the air and came back at the Fallen. Rebellion and spear of light clashed, the sheer strength of the Devil hybrid sundering the spear into a million shards of light. The tip met flesh, biting across Raynare’s stomach, blood spurting out at once. Crying out with pain, she fell from the air and hit the ground on her back.

Seeing his opportunity clear for the first time, Issei took it and started into a sprint, away from all the chaos. A spear of light smote the grass at his side with a trail of black smoke. The boy paralyzed, rooted to the spot.

Dante retaliated. The hybrid zoomed in the air. “Stinger!” Rebellion thrust forward at an incredible speed toward Dohnaseek.

The Fallen dashed aside, but Dante pressed on harder, stabbing the air rapidly a million times as Dohnaseek retreated in time, parrying with his spear of light, diverting the sword’s directions.

            Kalawarner and Mittelt came from behind. Their spears both struck their target, much to their sense of triumph, though it was short-lived. They shattered upon impact on the scaly hide. Dante swirled around in a storm of hacks and slashes. The two Fallen fell back instantly, shallow cuts opening throughout their bodies, their outfits torn with gashes in the cloth.

            _Eight._

            “Get the boy!” Raynare screamed, rising from the ground. Issei spun around to flee again.

            _Nine._

            Too late. They fought too well. He would not defeat them in time before the Devil Trigger depleted. Dante sped toward the boy and shoved him out of the way just as he returned to his normal, human-like state.

            _Ten._

            The excruciating pain was back as the spears tore through and out his body afresh. The stench of burned hair and scorched skin crawled into his nostrils. He chuckled weakly.

            “This was my favorite coat.” He turned to the boy. “Issei,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, again. Let’s go out, with a bang.”

Fingers digging in his pockets, with a whoop of triumph, he drew a black object out of his red coat. The boy gasped with astonishment. Where had Dante been keeping that thing hidden all this time, he might never know. Dante took aim with the grenade launcher’s sights. From their expressions of fear, it was clear the Fallen Angels knew it would hurt.

Dante pulled the trigger and his arms recoiled as the shell fired from the muzzle. The grenade zoomed in the air toward Raynare. At the last moment, Kalawarner put herself between the explosive and her leader, taking the brunt of the impact. The explosion engulfed the conglomeration of Fallen Angels, fiery blast and sonic boom alike plucking off their black feathers from their wings, raining down to the ground from the cloud of smoke that had settled around them, the screen of haze blocking them out of view.

Dante grinned faintly at Issei. The boy turned to him, his lips moving to form words of gratitude, when the spear of light penetrated his chest, his eyes glazing over. A cascade of blood gushed out of his open mouth. The boy keeled backward helplessly.

The fifth spear opened yet another hole in Dante’s torso. The cloud of smoke dissipated. Dohnaseek and Mittelt lifted Kalawarner, her arms curled around their shoulders limply, her clothing torn and charred, and her skin covered in soot and ash.

“Let’s go, Raynare!” Dohnaseek urged his leader. His breathing came in heavy and ragged. Like Mittelt and Kalawarner, he was also showered in ashes. His majestic black wings had lost most of their plumage to the explosion.

The Fallen Angel in question regarded Dante and Issei with an innocent smile. “It had to be done,” her voice turned sweet and mellow, but he could read through it and saw only sadistic satisfaction, her eyes roving over the boy with vicious derision. “Don’t blame me, but the God that gave you that Sacred Gear.”

The four of them took to the air and vanished with the help of a golden pentagram. The darkness that had suddenly drowned out the world dissipated and Dante was greeted by the receding dusk, blinding his eyes slightly. His energy was spent and the wounds he had suffered were grisly enough to make him collapse. He fell on his back with thump, aligning himself next to the boy, their pools of blood blooming and merging into one gory puddle.

Issei gasped like a fish out of the water. He raised a trembling hand to look at it, drenched in blood. His hand slumped at his side.

Dante watched out of the corner of his eye. His wounds would close and his skin would be back, good as new, within the next few hours. It was one of his many perks as Nephalem. The boy, well, his was a completely different story, being human and all.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” Dante said softly, lying limp at Issei’s side. “I promise you, I’ll get them next time. I’ll rip out their wings in your memory.”

His vision darkened. By the time he regained consciousness, the boy would be gone from this world. He supposed it was time to pay his respects.

Dante clenched his fingers into a fist. “I should’ve stopped toying with them. It was my fault. Forgive me.”

Out of the rim of his dwindling field of vision, he caught sight of a red shimmering above them. The pentagram magnified and expanded, revealing a figure as it drew up like a receding curtain. Crimson hair tumbled and floated with the wind, like a river of bloody ribbons, framing a young, delicate face with deep, blue eyes.

“Am I in heaven or what?” Dante spoke softly, unmoving on the ground.

Unheeding, the figure stood over the boy, whose life waned at a steadfast rate. “You called for me?” she asked gently, her voice steady and noble. Her skirt oscillated with the wind. Dante figured Issei would have a good view before dying. “If you’re going to die anyways,” A pair of wings sprang from her back, spreading to their full span, black, bat-like pinions of darkness. Dante gasped. _A Devil!_ “I’ll take your life for myself.”

His eyes drooped, no longer able to remain awake, drained of all energy to put up a fight against such a powerful Demon.

“Live for my sake!” Was all Dante heard before blacking out…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Angel + Devil = Nephalem  
>  *Human + Angel = Nephilim  
>  *Human + Devil = Cambion
> 
> I'm trying not to be condescending here, but I'm sorry, Ninja Theory ( DmC: Devil May Cry) didn't do their research. They got it wrong.


	2. Fallen From Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You thought it was over?  
> The party's just getting started!

# Fallen From Grace

 

Cushioned couch of supple leather, soft and springy. It did not feel familiar on his back, or rear for that matter, for the one at Devil May Cry felt like old, strung out leather. The smell, a cloying scent of ripe fruits, possibly strawberry and blackberry, clogging the confined atmosphere of the candle lit room: not recognizable either. And most certainly, the white-haired midget sitting from across him was the last thing he expected to see when he regained consciousness.

Dante rose drowsily from the couch and shambled around the room, groping along the wall in search for the fridge. There was a coffee table: he made sure to go around it. He came across an office desk, and he circumvented it. He scratched his head and rubbed his eyes. So there was really no fridge. At first he had just ignored the girl, who stoically observed him come around to consciousness, and had just taken her for a figment of his imagination, of a bothersome, lingering dream that refused to go away, even in his awakened state.

“What are you doing?” the white-haired girl asked, scowling. Her legs swung rhythmically over the couch.

Dante stared at her, undecided. “Are we related somehow?”

She glowered in silence.

He sank blithely back into the couch, resting his arms on the headrest and curling a leg over the other. A chessboard, its pieces arranged haphazardly across its smooth surface, lay near the edge of the coffee table. Significantly, a lone figure of a Knight piece stood off and away from the board, inches from tumbling off the table. Dante reached for it and held it delicately between his two fingers: a finely carved horse’s head.

“Neat,” he placed the figurine on the chessboard. “Wanna face off?” he smirked at the aloof girl.

Her features were set in annoyance. “That’s not what they’re for.”

“Ah, for decoration. Not my first choice, but all right then.” From the look on her face, he knew they weren’t for decoration either, but decided not to pry. He glanced around the room. There was a bathroom behind him. The oaken doors into the room were closed. He scrunched up his eyes and noticed that they were locked. The girl was still staring at him, her big golden eyes studying him clinically. “So… you live here?”

“Sort of.”

Dante scratched the back of his head. “Not the talkative type?” It was a rhetorical question. Still, the girl didn’t even bother to shake her head, not a tiny bit. “Well, I’m very grateful for all your hospitality, but it’s about time I left.”

Dante began to rise from the couch. His words clearly had a reaction on the cold and distant girl. Her expression tightened and she made to rise from the couch as well. He frowned. Something was not quite right.

“What? I don’t have time to babysit. Got business somewhere else. Limbs to dismember and a boy to avenge. So where’s my stuff?” He spotted his weapons resting on the mantelpiece hanging from the wall. He holstered Ebony and Ivory, tucked the grenade launcher away inside his coat and made sure Rebellion was safely inserted inside his guitar case before clasping it shut and slinging it over his shoulder. He turned for the door.

Dante raised an eyebrow at the white-haired girl, blocking his way out.

“Buchou said you were to stay here until she returned.” Her words were curt, but they carried assertive weight.

“Buchou?” Dante narrowed his eyes. “I’ll be sure to look that up on my dictionary later.”

He skirted around the girl. But she quickly moved to intercept again.

“Can’t let you go.” A sentence of few words, yet strong like iron. He was starting to like her more and more.

“That’s the spirit!” Dante smirked. “But I’m still going.” He ruffled her hair, passing by her yet again. He could faintly hear her teeth gnashing in irritation.

He had just grabbed the cold, brass doorknob when he felt a hand gripping his coat from behind, then a lurch, and suddenly he was flying in the air, catapulted by sheer, raw strength against the wall, where he slid down to the floor with a thud.

Dante jumped to his feet, raising his fists up to his face for self-defense. He threw a sweeping look around the room in search for his attacker. “Watch out, kid. There’s someone else among us!” The girl glowered. “I mean,” He looked down to gaze at her. “There’s no else here that could’ve done that just now… I mean, you’re just a midget so…”

He saw the punch coming miles away, yet did nothing to stop it. He had read her expression, seen her eyes narrowing, heard her teeth gritting, noticed her muscles flexing and the fist coming at his stomach, yet its massive, absolute strength was wholly unexpected.

Dante fought back the urge to double over with pain. His smile twitched, gazing at the girl with something akin to horror and surprise. The image of the crimson-haired girl standing over Issei, and her bat-like wings springing forth, came rushing back to his mind. “Oh, you monstrous thing! Think you can charm me with your looks? What did you do to me in my sleep? You’re not a succubus, right? I hope you’re not, because I’d have to take a shower double time.”

The girl scowled.

“Oh, sorry. That was incredibly nasty and mean of me. My bad,” Dante jumped back and cracked his knuckles. “Still, there’s no other explanation. You, too, must be a Devil!” He raised his fists, signaling for a brawl. “Well, come at me, then!”

“You’re stupid.”

“You know, I’ve never fought a kid before. You just might make my day!” He beckoned with his fingers. “Come on!”

“You’re a Devil, too,” the girl said matter-of-factly. “A very prejudiced Devil.”

Dante considered, thoughtful. “Technically… and technically not…”

At that moment, the doors unlatched and opened wide, and three figures walked in. But Dante only had eyes for the one in the middle, the crimson-haired teenaged beauty. Her bright hair cascaded down to her thighs in a river of blood, framing her gentle, elegant face and her kind, blue eyes. She and one of the other two girls were smiling warmly at him.

“Ah, Koneko-chan, thank you for looking after him,” she began to say.

Dante whipped out his pistols. “Ah, the she-Devil cometh! Got enough caps for all of you!”

Their smiles faded at once, replaced by a grimace of sudden shock.

A flying kick sent Ebony and Ivory soaring into the air and skittering across the room. Koneko stood upright once again. “You would shoot up a school?” she asked, glaring at him.

“Oh, this is a school?” His eyes widened in realization. “A school of Devils?” He brought forth the guitar case. “It’s clearly a job for Rebellion!”

“No, no, that won’t be necessary!” the crimson-haired beauty stepped forward, lightly pushing away the guitar case before he could open it. “Please, have some tea with us! No weapons at the table, all right?” Her face was flushed. “Please, I know you must be confused, so if you have any questions, ask away!”

Dante sensed her true intentions. There was no wickedness in her voice or evil glint in her eye, no devious schemes or lethal traps waiting for him. Just old-fashioned tea talk. He could feel powerful demon auras hidden away in her and the other two girls, though they were masked and inert for now. In other words, their approach was transparent and well-intentioned.

“All right,” He turned to the couch and hurdled over it, sinking into the cushions and resting both of his legs over the coffee table. “Let’s chat!” It didn’t escape his notice that one of two girls, the bespectacled one, was exchanging disapproving looks with the redhead.

The crimson-haired beauty sighed and took a seat next to Dante, in front of the chessboard. Koneko and the girl with glasses sat opposite to them. The third girl, a brunette whose ponytail coiled and ran all the way down to her legs in two strands, stood behind the couch, her hands entwined over her stomach, much like a serving girl.

“Shall I bring the tea?” she asked.

“Please do, Akeno,” the redhead said.

It was silent for a while. Koneko swung her legs over the edge of the couch. The girl with the black bob haircut sat stiff and upright, studying him with intelligent violet eyes. The redhead regarded him with a sideways glance, her feet on the floor, locking ankles. Dante fidgeted with his hands, checking on his fingernails from time to time.

He turned to her, his white bangs of hair swaying with the motion. “So…” he began. “The boy, Issei, what did you do with him?”

The redhead opened her mouth to speak, but it was the bespectacled girl the one that spoke first. “You must first agree to answer our questions after you’re done asking. There are some things…” She shot a glance at the redhead. “That we must know from you.”

“Ah, fraternizing with the enemy,” Dante let out a playful whistle. “Sure, why not?” He turned back to the redhead. “So, the boy?”

“For me to answer that question, you must first know who we are,” she replied.

“You’re Devils. I exterminate Devils for a living,” Dante smirked. “I don’t usually chit-chat with my prey.”

She looked down, abashed, but went on regardless. “I am Rias Gremory, heiress to the House of Gremory.” She gestured to the girl with glasses. “Sona Sitri, heiress to the House of Sitri.” Sona gave him a curt nod.

“Ah, the Seventy-Two Pillars of the Ars Goetia,” Dante cupped his chin in thought. “I believe I might have been acquainted with one belonging to Belial and another to Bael. Nasty fellows. They’re both dead.”

“My mother’s side of the family is Bael,” Rias pouted her lips, her voice timid.

“Oh, my bad. Not to worry, though, they looked nothing like you,” he grinned. At their frowns, he added. “Believe me, you would not have liked to meet those guys.” As the uncomfortable silence began to settle again, he broke it. “So, the boy?”

“Hyoudou, Issei is safe and sound. He’s in class as we speak,” Rias replied. Her confidence and certainty told him she wasn’t lying, yet what she was saying could not, or should, not be possible.

“You expect me to swallow that?” Dante raised his eyebrows. “He was pierced by a spear of light, and on the next day he’s in class like nothing happened?”

Rias was in the midst of responding when Akeno returned with a tray, holding cups of tea. She handed one to each girl and finally, to Dante.

“My, my, and who might you be, sweetheart?” the Devil Hunter flashed her a smile, taking the cup from her hands.

The black-haired beauty giggled. “Himejima, Akeno, vice-president of the Occult Research Club, Queen of Rias Gremory, and you…?”

“Name’s Dante, otherwise known as the Son of Sparda, the Legendary Dark Knight, professional Devil Hunter, bane of the Underworld and slayer of the Prince of Darkness, Mundus!” he beamed at her. “Just call me Dante.”

“That’s no small number of titles to confer to yourself,” Sona said icily.

“Well, you know, people talk, the word spreads, and next thing you know you can’t walk out in public.”

“Rias told me she found you in a near-death state, while lying next to Hyoudou-san,” Sona pressed on.

“Ah, yes, the things I do for the sake of the job. It’s also the reason why I’d rather work alone,” Dante held the cup up to his nose. He sniffed on it loudly. Whiffs of sweet lemon entered his nostrils. “It’s not poisoned, right?”

As if to make a point, Rias gingerly took his cup and replaced it with hers. “And this one?”

Rias ignored him and took up after Sona. “I was going to leave you to die, but then something happened,” Dante raised his eyebrows in response. “I could feel a powerful demonic aura in you. It’s not in me to allow such power and potential to go to waste when I can do something about it.” Rias leaned over the chessboard on the coffee table and retrieved the Knight figurine Dante had fiddled with. “This is an Evil Piece. Specifically, this is the Piece I was going to use to resurrect you.”

“You were going to turn me into a chess figurine?” His frown couldn’t have shown any more disbelief.

“Metaphorically, yes,” Sona replied. “Us Devils, have devised a system to replenish our numbers after we nearly came to extinction. In order to make up for our losses, we use Evil Pieces to reincarnate other beings into Devils. Every high-class and ultimate-class Devil is given their own to gather servants and form their peerages.”

“The problem is,” Rias said, twirling the Knight piece between her fingers. “It didn’t work with you. And then, gradually and slowly, you began to heal and your wounds to close, without any kind of medical attention.”

“Basically, you were going to turn me into your slave?” Dante asked, bemused. Rias nodded. He smirked. “You know, if you were older, I’d agree to that, and with no Pieces involved.”

Rias turned away, flushed.

“A Knight, huh?” Dante went on. “Nice pick. So Issei is your slave now? I suppose he didn’t have much choice in the matter, did he?”

“He’s my Pawn, yes. I am King, Akeno is my Queen, and Koneko-chan is my Rook.”

“No wonder,” Dante beamed at the white-haired girl. “I believe our fists are already acquainted.”

“You deserved that.” Was her sharp and curt response.

“Well, I expect you to be a good master, or Issei will know who to call,” Dante winked. Rias smiled weakly and nodded.

“I understand why you wanted to resurrect Dante-san,” Sona said, looking at Rias. “But Hyoudou-san? That’s very unlike you.”

“I’m gonna go on a limb here and assume you saved him for the Sacred Gear Raynare mentioned,” Dante replied in her stead. “A bit opportunistic, if you ask me.” His lips stretched into a grin. “Can’t say I blame you, it’s in the nature of Devils, after all.”

“Putting it bluntly, yes,” Rias said. “These Evil Pieces are valuable and therefore not to be trifled with. And speaking of which, I wanted to know why it rejected you.” Rias held up the Knight Piece toward Dante. “Evil Pieces will latch onto any demonic aura, and yours is a strong one… yet, it will not accept you as its host.”

“Can’t say I’m not relieved to hear that. I don’t relish the prospect of being someone else’s slave, not permanently at least,” he grinned. “But to answer your question, what if the Piece rejected me because of another, completely opposite force interposing at the same time?”

“You mean like a holy aura, instead of demonic?” Sona said, straightening up, her eyes flickering with curiosity. “It might be possible, but you’d have to be a Devil and Angel at the same time.”

“Which so happens to be the case,” Dante laid back and rested his head on his hands.

“It’s not often you hear about Nephalems, much less meet one in the flesh. It probably also explains how you managed to survive the light spears, since they are incredibly damaging against Devils,” Rias said, gazing at Dante with renewed interest. “You haven’t told us, what brings you around these parts?”

“A contract. The client wanted to remain incognito. He paid a good sum of money to have me get rid of a large concentration of Devils. He described this place as a demon-infested area, with monsters running amok and terrorizing the civilization. So far, that doesn’t seem to be the case. On the contrary, it seems the Fallen Angels are what I’m going to pluck now. Interesting how the world turns you around sometimes, don’t ya think?”

“Someone must have had a good reason to look for you, if you’re as good as you claim to be,” Sona said, pushing back her glasses. “Us, Devils, try not to meddle with the affair of humans. On the contrary, we help keep them safe by taking out Stray Devils.”

“Much like stray dogs, no?” Dante said.

“Pretty much, allegorically, just much more dangerous.”

“You, Devils, are truly unique. I might just lose my job if the rest were like you.” He stood from the couch, retrieved Ebony and Ivory from the floor and holstered them in his belt. “Excuse me, ladies. I’m off to slice and dice our Fallen friends. Oh, and pay a visit to Issei, too. I guess I still gotta apologize for getting him killed.”

Rias stood up suddenly.

“No, you can’t let him see you!”

Dante raised his eyebrows in response.

“He still doesn’t know…”

“You haven’t told him yet?” Dante exclaimed. “Guess I’ll have to give him _that_ talk as well.”

“He thinks it was all a dream. When he sees you, he’ll know everything was real,” Rias gathered herself. “I want to ease him into this new world.”

“If those Fallen find out he’s still alive, they won’t relent, even if they have to kill him a thousand times over. He’s bound to bump into one of them again,” Dante brought his guitar case forth as if to show it to Rias. “I just happen to have the right tool against our feathered friends.”

“You’re not going to make matters any easier, are you?” Rias said.

“Where would the fun be in that?” Dante turned to the others. “Ladies.” He regarded Akeno in particular with a wink. The black-haired beauty giggled. “Stay classy, Devils!” His red coat rippled in waves on his way out through the oak doors.

 

* * *

 

When darkness suddenly fell, drowning out the setting sun in the blink of an eye, he knew the boy had been cornered again. He was glad he had tailed him the whole day. Rias wanted to ease him into this new world. The Fallen Angel would do the exact opposite.

            “You’d do well to learn not to separate from your pack,” Dohnaseek said, the brim of his hat shadowing his dark, blue eyes. “Tell me, how does it feel to die twice?”

            Issei paralyzed on the spot. “You again? How can this be?”

            “What scum of a Devil had the gall to make you, a parasite, among their ranks?” Dohnaseek stepped forward from the shadows, his black wings made visible upon entering the light from the lampposts above.

            “What’s that even supposed to mean?” Issei said, taking a few steps back. “I don’t know what the hell is going on. Just leave me alone!”

            “Of course,” Dohnaseek said. “As soon as you’re dead.” Issei became transfixed by the motes of light clustering together until they became a solid spear of light. With a glint of contempt, the Fallen sneered and flung the spear at the clueless boy.

            The look of surprise on the Fallen Angel, swiftly turning into dread, made his appearance all the more satisfying. Dohnaseek had been so close to killing the boy and his face had been set in a look of proud triumph, when Dante seemed to materialize out of a blur and swiped the spear away at the last millisecond. Like taking candy from a babe.

            “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this is a bad case of bullying,” Dante smirked. “And boy, bullies don’t sit well with me.”

            Issei and Dohnaseek’s response was easily within the same terms.

            “Dante-san!” the boy exclaimed. “How did you…?”

            “You again?” Dohnaseek interrupted. “We saw you die. Whether you were human or Devil, you should’ve stayed dead. Whom do you serve now? What scum decided to make you his own and the boy?”

            “Friend, I don’t serve anybody.” Dante’s smile must have looked fierce, for the angel took a step back, his jaw quivering. “You’d do well not to separate from your pack. Tell me, how’s the old gang? Still sweeping up your feathers?”

            “This is none of your business!” Dohnaseek yelled, clearly at a loss for words.

            “Actually, this is very much my business. Anything involving the life of humans and the affairs of Heaven and Hell are exactly what my job entails. If you mess with humans, you mess with me!” He stuck out a thumb toward himself. He moved at a speed that even the Fallen Angel could not register, not until Dante’s arm rested over Dohnaseek’s shoulders, like old buddies. “You know, I usually have demon meat for breakfast. Wonder what Angel tastes like?”

            Dohnaseek ducked under his arm. “What are you?”

            “Glad you asked!” Dante’s lips stretched into a wide grin. For this particular situation, he called upon Ifrit, the Fire Devil, to have it bestow upon him his fiery power once more. Dante allowed the wave of flames to wash over him, streams of liquid fire running like blood through his body. He felt the skin on his body undergoing the transformation, tautening and blackening like charcoal, spikes protruding from his legs and horns from the temples of his head. Channeling Ifrit’s energy, his fists blazed furiously and sparks shot off when he punched them together. The Devil Trigger was unnecessary. It was merely for show and to make a point. And he was on his way to succeed.

            The Fallen Angel nearly stumbled as he scrambled backward.

            “Look at me!” Dante’s carefree and playful voice was gone, replaced by the hissing, rumbling speech of a demon, like rock scraping rock.

            “Stay away from me!” Dohnaseek cried. He flung himself into the air, his wings beating in frenzy, black feathers coming off from sheer agitation.

            The clawed, raging hand shot into the air and seized the Fallen from the ankle, savagely pulling him back down to land.

“I said, look at me!” Dohnaseek looked up helplessly. He shrunk back at the sight of his red slits for eyes. “I am the bringer of destruction, fire and brimstone personified! I am the bane of the Underworld, slayer of the Prince of Darkness! Heaven and Hell tremble before my coming! Demons and Archdemons alike bow before my wake! I am the Son of Sparda, the Legendary Dark Knight, and your worst nightmare! My name is Dante, and you and your Grigori will remember my name!” Dante whipped out a blazing fist and gripped one of the Fallen’s wings. Dohnaseek’s eyes widened in realization. Before he could protest or cry for help, the Devil Hunter pulled, and he screamed, immersed in agony.

Wings were everything to Angels and Fallen alike. It meant their status among the heavens, their rank among society. His pride wounded, his rank demoted, and his status trashed, Dohnaseek might just have lost everything he had going for him.

Dante flung the flaming wing aside and it sizzled, gradually turning into a charred heap of ashes. Dohnaseek stared at it in dismay, squirming on the ground, his fingernails screeching on the rough gravel.

The Devil Trigger depleted, returning Dante to his flourishing red coat and his sly smirk. He put Ifrit away and crouched down next to the Fallen.

“Got my message?”

Dohnaseek groaned, sweet, salty tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Good, then off with you. Scram! Shoo!” Dante waved his hands away. “If the rest of the Grigori doesn’t want to end up like roasted chicken, you’d better stay well away from my friend!”

Dohnaseek staggered to his feet, and with a last, backward glance of terror, the one-winged Fallen summoned the golden circle and swiftly vanished from sight.

Issei scrambled backward on his fours when the Devil Hunter turned to face him, trying desperately to run away from the scene. He lurched to his feet, making Dante let out a chuckle. “What the hell was that? What’s going on?”

“I’d like to know that as well,” Rias Gremory appeared at the scene. Her Queen and Rook stood like sentinels at each side of her. “That figure you turned into hasn’t been seen since the Great War, the most basic and primal representation of a demon. None of us look like that anymore.”

“Rias-senpai!?” Issei exclaimed, whirling around to meet her eyes.

“Another interrogation? I think I’ll pass,” Dante waved her off and he placed a friendly hand on Issei’s shoulder. “Kid, lemme explain the situation to you. See, you died yesterday. Old black birds wanted to take something from you, Sacred whatever-it-was. You are a Devil now, you have shed your humanity and now you are bound for who-knows-how-long to a powerful Devil who so happens to be a hot chick. Neat, right?” Issei’s jaw hung open. He chanced a glance at the three girls standing behind him, listening. “I’m a Devil Hunter, and I punish Devils and Demons alike if they’re naughty. Angels, too, from now on. So give me a call some time, maybe, and I’ll shake them off you, for a prize.” He slipped a business card out of his coat’s pocket and handed it to the flabbergasted boy. “Everything you gotta know to find me is in there.”

Issei gazed at the card and tried to read the language foreign to his own. “D-Devil May… C-Cry?”

“So much for easing him into it,” Rias grumbled, her arms crossed over her bountiful chest.

“Those Fallen shouldn’t be a problem anymore,” Dante said, walking over to the three girls. “If they didn’t learn their lesson the first time, ring me a call!”

“This is all for real?” the boy said, looking up from the card.

“You threatened the Grigori, the entire conglomeration of Fallen Angels and their leaders,” Rias said, her expression grim. “It doesn’t bode well. Any more missteps and it could possibly lead to another outbreak, resulting in a continuation of the Great War.”

Dante winced. “Oops. Well, be seeing ya!” He patted Issei on the back and said quietly. “Oppai, right?” He gave him a thumbs-up and a wink. Even the pervert remained speechless after that.

Rias shook her head as Dante turned his back on them and strolled his way out of the park. He looked back to see Issei joining the girls for an awkward introduction and a more fleshed-out explanation of the current state of affairs. He was good at conquering Hell, and making others feel uncomfortable. But inconsequential things aside, it was time for the most important part of the day.

Pizza time.


	3. The Devil Cries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit's going down for real!

# The Devil Cries

  

“I am not pleased,” the sibilant voice said on the other end. It was definitely human, male, in his late fifties. It was as much as Dante could gather from the lilt in his raspy tone. “I am not pleased, at all.”

Dante stretched out his legs over the hard wooden desk. “Terribly sorry to hear that, Mr. Anonymous.” He brought the greasy, pointy end of the pizza slice to his mouth and ripped on the hot, juicy cheese.

“I paid you to rid the area of demons, as your job unquestionably entails.” Dante flinched away from the phone, the coil of wire swaying with the motion. He shot a guilty smile at Trish and mouthed quietly ‘oops’, while shrugging his shoulders. The woman’s lips curled and shook her head, amused. “Not only is the area still crawling with those buggers, but you meddled with matters that were not of your concern.”

“You failed to mention a crucial piece of information,” Dante said, sitting straight and putting the unfinished hunk of pizza back on the box. “Those ‘buggers’ were the exact opposite of what you told me. I don’t recall visiting a city overrun with demons. Never saw anyone chopping each other to pieces. Heck, it was a lovely stay!”

“I am your client. I’m funding you and your shitty business, so if you don’t want to end up broke, you better start fulfilling your end of the bargain. I shell out the big bucks and you do the slaying.”

“You got that right,” Dante relaxed his shoulders and lifted his legs over the desk once again. “Except I’m not a mindless drone. I don’t do gratuitous killing out of the blue,” he shrugged his shoulders, “well, maybe from time to time.” Of course he remembered a certain situation, he had his guns pointed at Rias, Akeno and Sona before Koneko disarmed him. “The point is, you deceived me. Those were good Devils you wanted me to slay.” Dante lowered his head. “Devils like my father, Sparda.”

“It matters not anymore,” the voice had calmed, and a poisonous tone had leaked into it. “You caused only trouble for us. At the very least, you brought us closer to our goal.”

Dante cocked his head. “Ah, you’re one of them, aren’t you?”

“You’ve certainly stirred up some controversy around here,” the voice sneered.

“Give my regards to Azazel,” Dante said, before slamming the phone back on the switch hook with a ring.

“There goes another dissatisfied client,” Trish said, crossing her arms, sitting on the edge of the desk, opposite to Dante. There was disappointment in her voice, but Dante knew she rather found the whole thing amusing. When Dante confided in her that he had made friends with Devils (sort of), she had nearly entered a state of catatonia. The only words Dante was able to get out of her for a while were, _You’re kidding, right?_ “Do I have to be the one bringing the money to the table now?”

“I appreciate the gesture,” Dante said, bringing the remaining chunk of pizza into his mouth. He said between mouthfuls. “Don’t worry, I’m on it. This case I told you about…”

“You mean the one with the Devil schoolboy?” There was a hint of incredulous mockery in her voice. “Really, Dante? How much can you expect a high schooler to pay you? Does he even have a job?”

Dante raised his eyebrows. “… I don’t know…”

“Or are you just willing to help him from the bottom of your heart?” she smirked, snatching the last slice of pizza from the box before Dante could react.

“Dammit!” he smacked the wooden grain with his fist. “You finished it all up!”

“This is my second slice!” Trish protested. “It’s so good…” she purred, intent on making Dante jealous. The hot cheese exploded across her tongue in a wave of heavenly flavors of tomato and pepperoni.

“Mine!” Suddenly, the rest of the wedge was gone from her mouth. Dante held the bitten piece hostage, about to chomp on it. A flying kick sent it upward into the air. Trish cartwheeled onto the rough-hewn surface, and seized the floundered piece of running cheese as she came back on to her feet, standing tall on the desk. She dumped the whole slice into her mouth.

Dante heaved a sigh, although he didn’t make any advances in trying to take back the slice.

“You’re getting old, or what?” Trish asked, landing nimbly on the rug.

“I was thinking…”

“You’re worried about the boy?” Trish leaned against the edge of the desk, tossing back her hair in a fluid motion of golden.

“Read my mind again.” The millisecond the phone began to ring, Dante whipped his hand out and, as fast as he had reached the phone, he held it against his ear in an instant, already introducing his business. “Devil May Cry!”

Someone wheezed on the other end, as if out of breath. The boy spoke in a hurry. “Dante-san! I need your help, please! I’ll pay you with everything I have, just get over here as soon as you can, please!”

“Whoa, easy there, buddy!” Dante held the phone an inch away from his ear to keep from going deaf. “Slow down, take a deep breath, and tell me what you need, alright? What is it? Those old crows bothering you again?”

“Right on cue,” Trish commented. Dante nodded in agreement.

“It’s Asia, my friend! They got her!” Dante could hear Issei making an effort, but every word came out in the form of a shout. “Raynare… she’s doing things to her, wants her Sacred Gear! I’m a good-for-nothing. I couldn’t protect her. I dragged her into this mess. This is all my fault!” He could almost see the tears streaking across his face, sense the despair deeply embedded in his voice.

“Issei, stay with me!” Dante sat up straight, losing his playful tone and turning downright serious. “Let’s summarize, okay? The Fallen Angel kidnapped your _human_ friend, right? To steal your friend’s Sacred Gear, which I’m still at a loss for what it really is. Did I get it right?”

“Yes… yes!” He could imagine the boy nodding his head frantically.

“Did you tell Rias? Is she there with you? She and Akeno are powerful Devils, they should at least hold Raynare off until I get there.”

“I told Rias-senpai, she would have none of it. Wanted me to stay away from Asia and not go anywhere near that church. I would go by myself, but I can’t fight them. It’s too much for me!”

These Devils protected humans, however, they were still Devils: selfish and greedy beings. It didn’t surprise Dante that Rias wouldn’t go out of her way to save another victim. Undoubtedly, she wanted to keep as far away and removed from the Grigori as possible. He could understand her predicament and the reason why she would forbid her Pawn from taking action.

“Issei, listen,” Dante attempted to take a soothing tone of voice, but it simply didn’t fit him, coming out colder than he intended. “I don’t know the place. I need you to lead me to them, understand? Tell Rias where we’re going. She can’t stop me, and once we’re there, you can go off with your friends while I take care of the Fallen.”

“I can’t,” Issei gasped. “Buchou didn’t even want me to call you, wanted me to get rid of your card. She said you had caused enough trouble and made things tenser than before. But I can’t leave Asia. She’s my friend!”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Meet me at the park and we’ll head to the church. You’re sure, without a doubt, that’s where they’re hiding, right?” Dante said with an air of finality.

“I know it!” He could imagine the boy nodding firmly as he confirmed.

“See you there. I’m off,” Without another word, he leapt to his feet, slammed the phone back on the switch hook, went around the wooden desk and flung open the cabinet against the wall. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to be back at Devil May Cry for a while.

One by one, he looked over them all and picked. His trusty, old Devil Arms greeted him, neatly accommodated in the enclosed space of the closet. Rebellion, he inserted it into his guitar case and slung it over his shoulder. Alastor, his winged, golden Thunder Sword, he tucked under his rippling, red coat. Next came Ifrit, the Fire Devil.

“That’s overdoing it a little, no?” Trish said, watching with keen curiosity. “Should I tell Lady to lend you Kalina Ann while you’re at it?”

“Can’t make chicken barbecue with a rocket launcher,” Dante said smugly.

Agni and Rudra, the Firestorm, spoke their gratitude at being chosen. Nevan purred when he took the eccentric, electric guitar under his coat. And finally, his demonic, jack-of-all-trades briefcase, Pandora, he clasped shut and hid in his jacket.

“I did notice you didn’t negotiate payment with the schoolboy,” Trish said.

“I can worry about that later,” Dante said, striding across the shop toward the exit, the old wooden floorboards creaking under his weight. “He needs my help.”

Trish shrugged her shoulders. “I can respect that. Want me to tag along?”

“No need. How long does it take roast a chicken?” Dante flashed her a smile over his shoulder. Inwardly, though, he knew he’d probably take a lot longer than he suggested. His voice turned serious, almost venomous. “Besides… this is getting personal…”

He kicked open the double doors and vanished into the night.

 

* * *

 

When Issei spotted the Devil Hunter materialize from the shadows, his two-tailed coat billowing down to his legs, he bolted from his seat on the bench and rushed to meet him. Exchanging a few quick words of reacquaintance, they set off at a fast pace toward the church.

Even from afar, the somber building was openly visible, not only dwarfing the rest of the buildings in the vicinity, but also outshining them with its majestic solemnity. When Issei caught sight of the statue of the Cross standing tall at the top of the slanted rooftops, he wavered, visibly wanting to retreat for the briefest second, before steeling himself and powering onward. He had explained to Dante that churches and their surrounding areas had become dangerous hotspots since he became a Devil. Dante paid close attention to his own instinctive reaction when approaching the building and realized that it had always been there whenever he came close to churches. He just didn’t care. Or perhaps the Angel side of him compensated somehow.

Issei snuck under the shade of the trees, preferring to stay hidden and avoid the moonlight streaming from above. The boy crept along the meandering path and through the undergrowth bordering it, while Dante strutted along in plain sight, his white hair bright like pure silver.

When they came before the church’s façade, its tall stain-glass windows twinkling down on them, Dante spoke. “Are you sure this is the place? Looks rather… dead.”

“It’s got to be. Asia told me about it,” Issei shot wary glances toward the entrance. “What should we do now? Do we sneak in through the back?”

Dante looked back at him, a grin spreading across his face. “Partner, stealth has never been my strong suit.” He strode up the flight of marble steps and kicked open the massive double doors. The echoing, rumbling din that produced from the inside visibly jolted the boy. When he looked back, Issei looked comically stunned at his boldness. “You save the girl. I got your back.”

The church’s interior seemed to yawn with its eerie emptiness. The sturdy pews stood in neat rows, riveted to the hard ground. The antechamber echoed with their footsteps. The condition of the building told Dante that the church had fallen to disuse for a while. Motes of dust speckled the air, made visible by the streams of moonlight filtering in through the stain-glass windows. The edifice of the Cross at the altar stood torn in half, the wood already moth-eaten.

Dante had a lingering doubt, one that more and more tried to convince him that they were in the wrong location, that they had been misled and were wasting time by looking here. As the two of them strode down the aisle between the rows of pews, their footsteps coming back to haunt them in faint echoes, his feelings of doubt were shredded at the appearance of another figure, leaning lazily against one of the many thick pillars.

            “You brought a shitty bodyguard now?” the man walked over to block their way in the middle of the aisle. He wore a dark blue robe over a white toga, a cross dangling from his slim neck. Dante was forced to admit, the man’s white hair very much resembled his own. He looked to his side. Issei had tensed, his features stretched with anger and distress. “There are usually no Devils who can meet me twice.” The priest sneered, his red eyes wild.

            “Freed!” Issei exclaimed. “Where’s Asia? What have you done to her?”

            “You’d like to know that, wouldn’t you?” his eyes flared up with madness. “You and your shitty Devil friends dared to fucking humiliate me? When I’m done with you, I’ll gouge your eyes out, strangle you with your entrails, cut off your co-”

            “Hey, watch the language!” Dante called out, gesturing to Issei. “We’ve got kids here!”

            “You, shitty Devil, dare interrupt me?” Freed’s eyes flickered toward the Devil Hunter.

            “First off, I’m not shitty. I haven’t shat my pants since I was a baby. Second, I’m not a Devil either. Third, tell us where the girl is or you’re in for a world of hurt. And fourth, dye your hair another color. I don’t want people to mistake me for a blanched piece of shit.”

            “You got balls,” his savage leer returned. “I’ll make sure to cut them off!” Freed reached into his dark blue robe and pulled out two different objects: A white gun with gold linings engraved into it, pretty much like Ivory. The other, merely the hilt of a sword without a blade. The man pressed a button on its side and the beam of light became a solid and imposing blade.

            “Watch out, Dante-san!” Issei said. He thought his warning was needless.

            “I know, I know,” Dante drew Ebony and Ivory.

            “It’s holy energy. You can’t let it touch you. The gun shoots light bullets. He nearly killed me with that a few days ago!” Issei insisted. Dante didn’t deem his warning needless anymore.

            “That complicates things,” Dante said, about to take aim with his guns, but a nagging thought stopped him. “I don’t feel his aura. What is he? Devil or Angel?”

            “Neither! He’s human!”

            “Shit, that complicates matters even more,” Dante said, staring at the priest. At the moment, the enemy had the upper hand. Devils, he had slain pretty much his entire life. But humans, he had never laid a finger on one before. His best course of action would be to disarm him.

            “Why?” Issei asked. Dante could see the lines of frustration etched across the boy’s features. It wasn’t exactly the best moment to explain himself.

            From where he stood, Dante saw the priest’s fingers flexing, pulling the gun’s trigger, his wild grin stretching wider.

            “Take cover!” the Devil Hunter shoved Issei to the side, wedging the boy in between the columns of pews and out of harm’s way as the priest went full-on trigger-happy. Dante dodged the bullets, seeing their projected trajectories before they were even fired. He dashed toward the mad priest, bullets of light whizzing past his ears, grazing his legs and arms, barely skimming past his cheek as he leaned from side to side and out of the each bullet’s direction.

            Freed’s crazed expression of delight gradually turned serious as Dante closed the distance fast, finally turning outright anguished when the Devil Hunter came inches from him. He switched weapon and threw a horizontal swing, his light sword slashing thin air.

            Dante ducked under the beam sword, propped himself up on one hand on the floor and threw Freed off his feet with a sweeping kick to his ankles.

The priest yelped and fell painfully on his back, the sword and gun skidding away from his grasp. He jumped nimbly back to his feet and was greeted by Ebony and Ivory’s barrels, inches away from his forehead.

“Where’s the girl?” Dante asked, his principles warring in his mind. Such thing became apparent to the priest.

“You wouldn’t pull the trigger. Come on, I dare you!” Freed sneered, leaning his forehead closer to the twin sisters’ muzzles.

“No, but I can cause you pain. Lots and lots of pain,” Dante smirked. He lowered his gun at the priest’s feet.

As the realization set in, Freed’s sneer turned into a pained grimace.

“Dance for me, baby!” Dante grinned. He opened fire and the bullets rebounded on the hard ground, less than an inch away from the priest’s toes, shards of marble splintering and clouds of dust rising from the commotion.

Freed pranced on the spot, yelping with surprise, alternatively lifting his legs one by one before setting the other one down as bullets destroyed the marble tiles all around him, their empty casks piling into heaps of lead.

“Down there! The slut’s down there!” Freed yelled, flailing his arm toward the wooden platform in front of the altar. In spite of the bullets inches away from finding flesh, his leer still returned to his frenzied expression. “She’s probably already dead by now!”

Dante ceased fire, smoke trailing from his guns’ muzzles. The last round’s impact echoed thunderously throughout the antechamber.

“You son of a bitch!” Issei snarled, stomping his way toward the priest. “Sacred Gear!” he shouted, and a red, metallic gauntlet materialized out of thin air, sheathing his left forearm, though not completely covering up the whole hand, his fingers wiggling out of the gauntlet. A green jewel on its back gleamed as the device powered up. _Boost!_

The boy lurched forward and smashed his gauntleted fist into Freed’s face, sending him off his feet and sprawling spread-eagled on the floor.

Issei shook his hand. “That felt good.” Dante could only agree.

Freed regained his footing, though unable to avoid the swaying that resulted from the punch to his face. Blood oozed from in between his parted lips, which curled in a mad grin. “Next time I’ll slice you up good and feed you your own bowels. It goes for both of you, bitches!” He reached into his pockets and dashed the small object against the floor, producing a blinding flash of light. “Later!”

Dante and Issei closed their eyes a split second too late, vainly barring the bright luminescence with their arms. Dante pried his vision to confirm that the priest was gone. Not too far away, he heard a crash like someone stumbling, loads of swearing as he hurried back to his feet, the creaking of a door being flung open and then slamming shut.

“He’s getting away!” Issei exclaimed, taking a step forward as if to give pursuit.

“Let him,” Dante said.

He resisted the urge to laugh out loud at the priest’s clumsiness and instead turned his attention on the wooden platform before the altar. He placed a hand on it before sending it flipping into the air, the structure smashing against the wall in a hammering ruckus and the splintered beams of wood scattering across the floor.

A dark, yawning stairway sloped downward until it vanished in the darkness.

“Stay close,” Dante said, taking the first step and plunging into the murk, the Devil one step behind him.

“What was that about? You had him in your sights!” Issei complained as they descended the dark trail into what was possibly a dank crypt.

“I don’t kill humans,” Dante said simply, their steps echoing in the confined, drawn-out space.

“He killed one of my clients, and he tried to rape Asia!” Issei pressed on.

“No matter the circumstance, no matter the reason, and no matter their background, I don’t kill humans, ever,” Dante said, with an air of finality.

Issei knew better than to insist. The boy had to understand the importance of that. To kill and take advantage of his superhuman powers was the ultimate sin.

Dante broke the uncomfortable silence as they neared the glow of light down at the end of the stairway. “Remember, I’ll clear the path, you take the girl and then I’ll cover your back. If I don’t make it out,” he flashed a smirk, “which I highly doubt, just keep going without me, no matter what, and I won’t charge you a cent.”

 

* * *

 

When Yuuto slid soundlessly into the Occult Research Club’s room and nodded grimly, Rias knew her Pawn had brazenly ignored her orders, called the Devil Hunter against her wishes, and much to her mortification, gone off with him to try and rescue the priestess she had prohibited him to see. After such a close call he had with Freed before, she truly worried for him.

            She very much sympathized with Issei’s fierce attempts to rescue the priestess and the girl’s plight, as well as admired his sense of loyalty, which, as her servant, easily surpassed all other traits in importance.

            Rias didn’t know whether to feel frightened for Issei’s welfare, furious for his disobedience, or grateful for Dante accompanying her Pawn in such a desperate mission, or maybe all three of them combined.

            Somehow, she knew she would need them. Rias slid gracefully in between the couch and the coffee table and delicately grabbed the Knight and Bishop figurines, before slipping them in her pocket.

            “Akeno, prepare the jump,” Rias said.

“Yes, Buchou,” The vice-president conjured up the crimson pentagram with the Gremory sigil engraved on it, its bright, scarlet radiance lighting up the room in hues of blood.

“Let’s go!” Rias said. Yuuto, Koneko and herself clustered around Akeno, and after a blinding flash, silence reigned once again.

 

* * *

 

The crypt looked bigger than it should’ve been, probably nearly as extensive and high-ceilinged as the church above. Torches crackled in their brackets against the walls, casting a dim light over the shady army of figures gathered at the foot of the pyramid on which Raynare and the other three Fallen stood.

            From what Dante could gather, the men huddled at the base were all priests like Freed, their light swords still inactive, but nevertheless, ready to exorcise intruders. And just like before, the fact that they were men further complicated matters for him. If only they were Devils or Angels, he could unleash all of his latent power and pulverize them all to bits and be done with it.

            Then he saw her. “Asia!” Issei screamed, coming up to his side.

            “Issei-san…”

The priestess hung limply from the Cross at the top of the pyramid, shackled by chains, her head sagging low over her chest and her golden hair framing her gentle features. From the gashes on her white dress, the smudges of dirt on her face, and overall, the strains of duress throughout her shape, Dante knew the girl had undergone hours of exploitation and abuse.

            Raynare stood upright, gazing down imposingly on the new intruders, a leer creeping up her face. Kalawarner stood limply on the side, no doubt still recovering from the grenade she took in Raynare’s place. Mittelt rocked on her heels, gazing at the priestess with something akin to dainty malice. Dohnaseek stood back, as if shying away from Dante. Crestfallen was the best way to describe his expression.

            “A little late to the party,” Raynare said. She gestured toward Asia. “The ritual is nearly complete!”

            “You forgot to send out our invitations,” Dante said, taking a sweeping look at the crypt, studying the situation and figuring out the best way to exploit it. He knew a way. He just needed Issei and Asia to be gone, far away from this place.

            “Stupid of you to come here just by yourselves.” Raynare eyed Issei with disgust. “You and a worthless worm.” She regarded Dante with interest. “Threatening the Grigori… you actually came and made our job easier.”

            “I’m surprised you didn’t bring more numbers to guard your ass,” Dante said.

            “There’s no need for that.” Raynare turned to Asia. “Once this Sacred Gear is mine, I will rise in rank and become the most powerful servant under Azazel-sama! You can have the girl once the ritual is over with.”

The Fallen spread her hands over Asia’s chest, issuing forth a bright green glow. The priestess came back to consciousness and gasped, her eyes widening. The scream that came next spurred Issei into action, sprinting past Dante and barging into the army of priests, their light swords shimmering into form, white and daunting.

Dante darted after Issei, caught up and overtook him just as Alastor came out in a whirl of golden lightning, striking and parrying swings that could have proved fatal against the boy. The priests amassed around them and threatened to overwhelm them with their numbers. Dante whizzed past the boy and back, blocking blows, shoving back, and flinging his sword out to glance off another blow directed at Issei.

“Don’t stop, keep going!” Dante yelled, spinning around, Alastor clanging loudly against a light beam, and pushing the wielder back and off his feet with sheer strength. From the looks of it, the command was unneeded, for the boy plowed on forward, his Sacred Gear raised to his face for caution, using his heightened Devil senses to lean out of the way and dodge some of the attacks sent his way before Dante retaliated for him.

Like a living shield, Dante and Issei cleared the way toward the foot of the pyramid, as enemies darted in and were sent reeling back by Dante’s insurmountable skill and speed.

At the top, Raynare laughed with excitement, eyeing hungrily the two silver rings as they landed softly upon her palms. “Finally! Twilight Healing is mine!”

Issei leapt onto the flight of stairs and raced up the length of the slanted structure, leaving the priests behind to turn all their attention on the Devil Hunter. Dante fended them off with ease, dashing aside, raising his blade to block, kicking them back and shoving them with Alastor’s flat of the blade, intent on keeping them at bay and from interfering with Issei.

Kalawarner, Dohnaseek and Mittelt stood shielding Raynare and Asia, calling upon their light powers to summon spears, and poised to hurl. Issei saw this, and yet steeled on. _Boost!_

“Asia!” he yelled, ducking under a searing spear, dodging to the side for the next, and deflecting the last one with the gleaming crimson gauntlet.

As the boy neared the top and the Fallen braced to receive his charge, Dante took leeway from his fight, and hauled his demonic briefcase, Pandora, from his coat. The priests wheezed from exhaustion and watched with awe as the Devil Hunter spun around and heaved the briefcase. Quickly, the big, metallic bundle shifted shape in midair, its brass, demon façade smoothing out and springing a gyratory boomerang of blades, whooshing its way toward the Fallen obstructing Issei’s path.

Kalawarner saw it first, the spin of death zooming toward them. She seized Mittelt by the hand and together, they leapt out of the way. Dohnaseek noticed the commotion at the last moment, the razor shaving the top of his hat as he ducked hurriedly.

Issei elbowed past the Fallen, his gaze centered on Asia. Dante caught the boomerang as it flew over his head, the briefcase swiftly returning to its original form. He whipped out Ebony and Ivory, and without so much as glance, fired the sister guns, the bullets whistling past Raynare and cracking the shackles holding Asia captive. Raynare shied away from the resounding impact, just as the boy dashed into their close proximity and caught the limp priestess in his arms, who had begun keeling over toward the ground. He spun on the spot and jumped the height of the pyramid to land among the awe-stricken priests, cradling Asia in his arms.

Dante hooted excitedly. “Go on without me, Prince Charming, you’ve earned it! I’ll sweep up the mess after you.”

Like before, Dante cleared the way for Issei, parrying swings for him and generally keeping the light swords at bay, though this time around, the priests’ weariness showed in their faltering determination and slower swings, as well as the reduced frequency of their attacks.

As they reached the staircase, Issei glanced quickly over his shoulder. “Dante-san!”

“Thank me later. You go on ahead a live happily after,” Dante winked. “I have _personal_ issues to attend to.”

Issei nodded gravely and sped up the staircase, vanishing into the darkness.

Dante cracked his knuckles, relaxed his neck, ground the door shut and turned to face the army of priests and the Fallen Angels, a dangerous smirk spreading across his face. “It’s showtime!”

* * *

 

The darkness stretched on and on. The trail seemed to draw out, more than when he had made the descent with Dante. When he heard the door grinding shut behind him, Issei caught a glimpse of the dim crypt’s glow before he was consumed in pitch-blackness.

            Asia made a low moaning noise in his arms. “Hold on, Asia, you’ll be alright now,” Issei said softly, resuming his trek up the stairway. As the adrenaline subsided, so the ache in his legs and muscles became more and more accentuated, the scrapes and bruises sharper, and weariness began to set in at its peak. He nearly stumbled in the darkness, but managed to stay afoot.

            Looking up, he saw the darkness finally coming to an end, a square opening where he could see the moonlight streaming into the antechamber. He emerged from the hole and scrambled over to the pew in the first row, gently laying Asia on it before kneeling on the hard marble floor.

            “Asia,” he said softly, then a bit louder. “Asia! Are you alright?”

            “Issei-san…” she said, barely audibly. Issei could tell the girl made a great effort to get the sound out of her throat, to make the simple motion of shifting her head to have a clear look at his eyes.

            “Hang in there, you’ll be fine now…” Issei said, trying to take an encouraging tone. “There’s a friend I want you to meet. His name’s Dante, and he’s really cool. Without him, I wouldn’t have been able to save you. We’ll take you to the hospital and you’ll get better, yes? We’ll have snacks and we can continue to be friends. You could even come with me to Kuoh Academy!” he said brightly, though the sense of despair leaking into his voice betrayed his tone. He clutched at her hand. “All you have to do is hang in there, Asia!”

            “Raynare-sama… she took my Sacred Gear, right?” Asia said, visibly fighting to remain awake.

            “Dante-san will take care of it, don’t you worry about it. We’ll take you to the hospital and we’ll give your Sacred Gear back to you, alright?” He could feel his chest growing heavier, finding it harder to breathe, the tears welling up and stinging his eyes. He had a sinking feeling what the removal of the Sacred Gear had cost the girl.

            “I don’t feel… very well…”

            “Just hang in there a little longer. Please, Asia!” Issei leaned in closer, holding her hand in both of his own. “There are still so many people I want you to meet, places I want to take you!” The tears rolled down his cheeks. It was a kind of sadness he had never experienced before. There just had been no reason for it.

            “I wish… I had been born here… gone to school with you… had met you earlier…” Asia said, her eyes drooping wearily, her voice dithering. And just like that, the hand he had been holding went limp, inert.

            The stab of pain was like a knife piercing his body, twisting the hilt in his heart. Agony and despair leaked unbridled into his mind where different scenarios played out in the back of his eyes in a series of flashes. Situations where he was able to overpower Raynare and keep her from abducting Asia, where he defeated Freed and kept Asia safe, where he somehow acquired Dante’s abilities and went on an all-out rampage against the Fallen Angels… Issei sobbed and brought Asia’s lifeless body to his own in a close embrace, venting his grief in streams of tears until his eyes ran dry.

            “I am the only one who can save her now,” the calm voice said from behind.

            Issei looked up quickly, temporarily staunching his sorrow. He couldn’t make out the features of the figure that had slid in through the church’s doors without a sound, but his slim contour and, generally, his frame reminded him of the pretty boy. “Kiba?” But it couldn’t be. Kiba did not wear robes or capes. And his voice sounded different. “Who are you? Can you really help Asia?”

            “For her, I’d do anything. After all, she healed me as I lay dying,” the figure approached and held up a hand. The Evil Piece glowed white with the moonlight. A Bishop figurine, expertly crafted, finely carved, tall, elegant and bereft of life power at the moment.

            “You’re the Devil she healed and for which she got excommunicated?” Issei exclaimed, jumping to his feet, hastily wiping the tears away.

            “So she told you the story,” his voice sounded warm and kind, yet it gave him a foreboding sense of apprehension.

            “Who are you?” Issei demanded.

            “I don’t have to identify myself to a low-class scum,” his voice suddenly turned poisonous. As suddenly as it had shifted tone, it went back to calm and reassured. “Please, step aside, if you want Asia to live again.”

            “But that would mean, she’d be a part of your peerage, wouldn’t she?” Issei’s head swarmed with questions, and distrust toward the Devil settled in. “That means she’d be your slave. How do I know she’d be happy with you? How do I know that’s something she’d want? How do I know you will treat her with respect and make her happy?”

            “That’s not for you to know,” the Devil said. He took a step forward. “Putrefaction will set in, the body will decompose, and it will be too late for Asia to come back. Would you prefer that instead?”

            Issei looked between Asia, finally at peace, having died with a sad smile on her face, and the Devil, his dark hair swaying lightly, his yellow eyes glinting in the darkness. Indecision tore him apart. On one hand, Asia would die and never come back to life, never to be seen again, never to hear her sweet voice again, never to laugh, smile or cry again. On the other, she would live, as a slave to this Devil he knew he couldn’t trust, but at least, she’d be alive, and he would be able to see her moving and about once again.

            Suddenly, the Devil stood at his side, facing Asia. He wore a fiendish smirk. “It was never really for you to decide.”

            With a flick of his hand, Issei went soaring backward in the air, landing painfully on the marble floor and skidding to a halt against the wall, dimly aware of the Devil stooping over Asia’s inert form. He shook his head to rouse himself back into action, and jumped to his feet, activating his Sacred Gear with a cry of fury.

            The green, glowing circle surrounding the girl made him stop in his tracks. The emerald brilliance came to such a level that he had to bar his eyes from its light. When he lowered his arm to see, Asia was stirring…

* * *

 

The four Fallen Angels had flown down from the pyramid and landed among the army of priests. It was clear that the presence of their leaders bolstered their resolve to exorcise the Devil Hunter. The exorcists took bolder steps toward Dante, intent on surrounding their victim, their light swords poised to strike and counterattack.

            Raynare was a prominent figure to behold among the less than noteworthy army of clerical minions, with unmatched wicked beauty, clad in revealing lingerie and proudly displaying her black wings.

            From their withdrawn position, it seemed Dohnaseek and Kalawarner had somewhat learned their lesson as they sulked in silence at the back of the conglomeration, yet they stood out no less than their counterpart. The little girl, Mittelt, seemed blissfully unaware of the pain to come as she rocked on her heels, gazing at Dante with scorn and contempt.

            “That was quite a scene, just to rescue a little girl that was already doomed to die,” Raynare sneered.

            Dante cocked his head to the side. “Doomed to die?”

            Raynare burst out laughing, a high-pitched shrill. “You don’t know? You didn’t know? So your desperate mission was all for nothing?” Raynare made an effort to calm down. “These,” she held out her balled fists for him to see. A silver ring glinted around a finger on each hand. “Are her Sacred Gear. Once removed, the previous user dies. Odds are, she’s already dead, and the worm’s bawling like a baby before her corpse.” She chuckled. “Don’t take it too hard. It was for a good cause.”

            Dante felt his teeth gritting.

            Raynare hovered her hands over her stomach, specifically, over the spot where Rebellion had bitten into her flesh in their previous encounter. From her hands, a green, warm glow issued, rejuvenating her skin, closing the ugly scar and ultimately vanishing it without a trace of having ever been there in the first place.

            “There!” the Fallen gave him an innocent, girlish grin. “Good as new!”

            “Let’s finish him off, Raynare,” Mittelt eyed him with hungry malice. “And let’s make it painful. Let’s do it for poor Dohnaseek and his lost wing.”

            The Fallen in question looked up after being addressed, the shame bearing him down visibly lessening, looking at the little girl with rekindled fondness.

            “When I said I would make you roasted chicken, I meant it,” Dante said fiercely. “You should’ve stayed away from my friend.”

            “Get him!” Raynare barked.

            The priests marched forward in unison. Their steady and measured footsteps quickened until they were all outright sprinting toward the Devil Hunter, resolved to overwhelm him with their numbers, aware of his unwillingness to harm them, and determined to exploit that weakness. The exorcists closed in from all directions, their light swords raised and poised to strike the awaiting white-haired man.

            Dante grinned, waiting until the last moment to make his move, waiting for all of them to get as close as possible.

            There was an explosion of dark blue and jolts of electricity erupting from the mass of priests piling on top of the Devil Hunter, accompanied by the electronic shockwave of guitar strings stridently blasting with feedback. The exorcists were launched backward in the air in all directions, revealing the isolated man in the midst sporting Nevan, an ugly, jagged, serrated, spiked guitar whose toothed neck resembled a fearsome scythe, crackling with electricity, warping and distorting the air around it.

            The exorcists did not rise again, knocked out cold by the guitar’s current and its raucous sonic wave.

            Dante whooped and jammed on the guitar. “Let’s rock!”

            He saw Raynare pointing at him and barking orders at the dumbstruck Fallen Angels, though he could not hear a word over the din Nevan blasted out.

            Their spears of light were there once again, taking solid shape in their hands, gleaming with heavenly power as the four of them rose in the air, ready to hurl.

            Dante tuned up and the guitar’s clamor pitched, the noise turning sharp and drilling into their eardrums, causing the Fallen to lose their power, their spears to turn to nothing, to clamp their ears shut and scream their lungs out in a feeble attempt to drown out the noise. As an added extra, a bolt of electricity sprang from the tautened strings and Dante’s speeding fingers jamming on them, shooting Raynare out of the air, and then the other three in consequence.

            Dante finished his jam session with a dramatic gesture, raising his hand toward the ceiling. “This party’s getting crazy, don’t ya think?” He noticed a red goo leaking out of some of the knocked-out priests’ ears. “I apologize in advance to our friends here, they might have just gone deaf.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Now that they’re out of the way, let’s talk business,” Dante said, stashing Nevan away in his coat and drawing the winged blade, Alastor, once again, its golden cutting edge gleaming from the crackling torches.

            Raynare uncovered her ears gingerly. Her body was draped in soot from the electric jolt that shot her down. Her hands brushed over her skin, skimming over her head, ears and her stomach with a bright green glow, eliminating all trace of injury, likely also removing the lingering ringing that was sure tormenting her ears as well as her fellow Fallen’s. Nevertheless, she did not deign herself to approach and heal them as well.

“Your stupid toys won’t avail you,” she snarled, holding her hands out, displaying the silver rings she took from Asia. “As long as I have these!”

“Give them back,” Dante winked at her. “And I’ll buy you toys more suitable for your outfit.”

“Get him!” she yelled, materializing yet another spear of light.

Dante deflected the hurled spear with a lazy flick of his sword, charring the ground where it came to crash. Kalawarner and Mittelt swooped in, their spears raised to skewer the Devil Hunter. He dodged with ease, moving aside almost idly, as if taunting them. With a battle cry, Dohnaseek charged toward him on his feet. The three Fallen came at him from three different sides at the same time, as Kalawarner and Mittelt came around from their first charge and hurtled headlong, their spears raised like stingers.

Dante twirled on the spot, evading all three spears by a hair’s breadth as the three Fallen rushed past him. There was a whirl of golden, a high-pitched girlish shriek, and an explosion of dust and feathers as Mittelt was felled before getting out of Alastor’s range. The dainty-looking girl turned to a heap of ash and black feathers haphazardly strewn on the floor.

Kalawarner became rooted to her spot, watching with horror. Dohnaseek stood right behind Dante, equally shocked and at a loss for words.

The Devil Trigger had kicked in and his flamboyant crimson coat had vanished. Dante’s skin turned to coal-black hardened leather, his muscles growing in size, ridges popping out across his arms and legs, horns and spikes festooning the crown of his head. Claws grew and sharpened, and black midnight leather wings sprang from his back. Crackles of lightning ran across the entirety of his body, powering it up and feeding his hands with the ability to hurl tendrils of lightning.

And when the Devil Hunter spoke, there was no lighthearted playfulness anywhere in his tone, but the rumbling, thunderous speech of a sizzling storm, inexorable before the petrified Fallen Angels.

“I warned you, and you ignored my ultimatum, brazenly. I am the Thunder Devil, the Spirit of Lightning, the one that scourges the earth, splits the oceans, rends the skies and sunders the mountains! Seraphs and Archangels dread my coming. I am Dante, the Son of Sparda, the Legendary Dark Knight, and this is your doom. Meet your end, with dignity!”

“That power… that’s no high-class Devil power… he rivals the Four Great Satans themselves!” Kalawarner choked out with dread and emotion, her knees buckling. She hit the ground with a soft thud, prostrating before Dante and his terrifying shape. “I beg for mercy. Please, forgive me, Dante-sama!”

His slits for eyes drifted menacingly toward Raynare, who stood stunned and speechless, her eyes flashing toward the sealed exit from time to time. Then he noticed her eyes shifting slightly in her sockets, giving a command to the one standing behind him.

There was a blur of golden. For a split second, Dohnaseek stood motionless, poised to stab Dante in the back, his expression vacant and his eyes glazed, before he turned to dust and the black feathers from his remaining wing drifted lazily onto the ground.

Dante pointed quietly to Raynare with Alastor’s tip. The Fallen doubled over and fell on her knees next to her servant, shuddering from sheer terror and an overpowering sense of despair.

“We’ll do anything you say, anything you want!” Kalawarner pleaded, her hands tightly clasped together.

Dante produced the same unnerving, thunderous speech.

“What am I to do with you?”

He approached the two defenseless Fallen. Alastor hungered for flesh, a ravenous crackle of electricity running down the length of the golden blade.

Kalawarner threw herself down at his feet, grasping at his ankles. “Please, we were just acting under orders. Azazel-sama ordered us to look after the boy!”

“Although he didn’t order you to kill him?”

“It was a desperate measure, for desperate times!”

“And the girl?”

“Her Sacred Gear was a gift for Azazel-sama! Please, forgive me!”

His ruthless gaze shifted to Raynare. “You’re awfully quiet now.” Alastor inched closer to her exposed, slim neck. Her sleek, jet-black hair stood on end from the static radiating from the sword.

Raynare vouched for herself, not with words, but with actions. Her hands trembling sickeningly, she slid both silver rings out of her fingers and handed them out to Dante.

The Devil Hunter spread his palm open, closing it delicately to shelter Twilight Healing in it.

Raynare hesitated. Her voice came out soft and low. She cleared her throat. “The girl… you can still save her…”

Dante cocked his head to the side. “How?”

“You’re a Devil, an ultimate-class Devil, right? Turn her into a Devil. You must have a peerage… right?”

“I don’t.” The words came out like sharp steel. Raynare looked down, trembling. “But I know someone who does.” She looked up again, visibly relieved to a small degree, as if hoping that she had been acquitted for a mere suggestion.

With his bat-like wings, Dante took flight and zoomed in the air toward the top of the pyramid, the dank and compressed air of the crypt feeding the lightning emanating from his black skin. Without landing, he snatched the rusted chains coiled on the floor and glided back down.

Both Kalawarner and Raynare eased up when they saw his intent. Dante clasped a shackle around their necks.

“Thank you… thank you…!” Kalawarner breathed.

            Dante looked at them both with pity, his Devil Trigger wearing off and returning him into his red coat and his long, white bangs of hair. He said simply: “I won’t be your executioner today.”

            And he led them out of the crypt and up the dark stairway.

 

* * *

 

The shock had evidently worn off Raynare as they made the ascent back to the antechamber.

            “H-how come you don’t have a peerage, being such a strong and powerful Devil?”

            Dante stood behind the Fallen Angels, ordering them to keep moving, gripping the chains at their end like a leash.

            “I’m not a Devil.” It didn’t bother him when he got mistaken for one. He could understand. Sometimes he showed a bit too much of his Devil side. “I’m a Nephalem.”

            “Devil hybrids can also get their own peerages,” Raynare pressed on.

            “Be quiet, and walk faster,” Dante snapped. He could feel a new powerful demonic presence looming above them. He pushed the Fallen harder, and the three of them took each step faster, until they finally climbed out of the hole and onto the church’s antechamber.

            “Buchou!” Issei cried out as he emerged. The boy looked from Rias on one extreme of the hall, to Dante on the other, accompanied by the two Fallen. “Dante-san!”

            Dante found the whole scene perplexing. Rias and her whole peerage had apparently entered the church pretty much at the same moment he and the Fallen surfaced from the crypt’s stairway. In between both parties, Issei stood confronting a new individual, his crimson Sacred Gear sheathing his forearm. And much to his astonishment, Asia sat on the pew, glancing from party to party like a frightened bunny, probably a bit more confused than Dante.

            “Issei, are you okay?” Rias asked, walking down the aisle, her peerage sticking close to their King like sentries.

            “He’s taking Asia by force!” the boy yelled, throwing an accusatory gesture toward the Devil, standing next to the sheepish girl.

            “Please, identify yourself,” Rias said, rather warily. “Who’s your master?”

            “My name’s Diodora Astaroth, and I am my own master,” he smiled. “Pleased to meet you, Gremory-san.”

            “You’re the brother of the Great Satan, Ajuka Beelzebub?” Rias arched her eyebrows in surprise.

            Diodora nodded calmly.

            “Did you use an Evil Piece for the girl?” Rias went on, pointing at Asia.

            “Indeed, Asia belongs to my household now. She’s coming with me,” Diodora said simply. Dante had known what he was even before he had laid eyes on him, just by feeling the powerful aura pulsating from his frame, much like he had identified Rias and Sona’s as well during the interrogation. The elder boy wore a warm and friendly smile, though when he turned to regard Dante, his yellow eyes gave him a sense of distrust. Except he didn’t regard Dante at all, but Raynare. “You have her Twilight Healing. Please return it,” he said, stretching out his hand.

            “I have no such thing,” Raynare snapped back.

            Dante eyed the Devil with suspicion. “I have it, and it’s mine now. Give us back the girl and she can have it back.”

            “Then there’s no use for me,” Diodora replied.

            “If you want things to stay pretty, you might as well give her back to Issei, or else…” Dante said, grinding his teeth.

            “My word is final. She’s coming with me, like master and slave.”

            Ebony was out of its holster before even he could stop himself, the barrel pointed at Diodora’s face.

The Devil smiled. “That’s cute.”

“Dante-san, stop!” Rias said, her voice hard as steel. “You can’t take a servant from their master. It’s against our law. That would be considered abduction.”

“You’re taking his side?” Dante asked, his tone of voice outraged.

Issei shared Dante’s indignation. The boy glared daggers at Rias. The crimson-haired girl looked down, helpless.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re leaving,” Diodora said. He gripped Asia by the wrist.

“Hey, don’t touch her!” Issei yelled. He took a lurching step forward, charging toward the Devil. _Boost!_

Diodora’s lips twitched. He held out his hand and a green barrier of light materialized between Issei, and himself and Asia. Issei collided against the wall of energy, rebounding back violently and falling on his back with a yelp of pain. Koneko and the blond boy tried to go to his aid, but Rias barred their way with an arm.

Dante took a step forward, staring down at the Devil from across the magic barrier. “I challenge you,” he said firmly. He was mostly unaware of these Devils’ customs and culture, but he was sure there was a way to compete for the girl’s freedom.

Diodora arched his eyebrows. “To a Rating Game?”

Behind Diodora, Dante noticed Rias frantically shaking her head.

“Yeah, that!” Dante said quickly, trying to staunch his hesitation before it became noticeable.

The Devil’s normally warm smile stretched into a fiendish smirk. “And what if I win?”

“Twilight Healing is yours.”

“That’s not enough. Not worthwhile…”

“And… I’ll be your servant,” Dante had to spit the words, which refused to come out. Issei, Rias and the rest of her peerage looked shell-shocked at such remark.

Diodora tilted his head. He looked convinced, but not quite.

“And my peerage will also be yours.”

“Where’s your peerage?” Diodora looked around. He probably knew Issei and the group clustering around Rias were not any of his Pieces.

“They’re not here, at the moment.” He hoped the lie was enough to convince him to agree. “But if I win, the girl comes with us, no questions asked.”

“Agreed,” Diodora smiled warmly. “Come Asia, we have to show you the ropes.” Something in his sly tone told him he wasn’t quite telling her the truth.

The girl looked up at his master, and then at Issei, who had knelt down on the ground after the impact he took against the magic barrier. “But…” she said sheepishly.

Diodora interrupted her. “Come on, let’s go.” He pulled her up from the pew rather harshly.

Issei staggered to his feet. He clenched his hands into fists when he saw that. “No, Asia!”

Diodora went on, regardless. A great, green circle shimmered into existence under their feet, enclosing him and Asia within it. The girl reached out a hopeless hand toward Issei as the emerald glow’s brilliance peaked. In a last desperate effort, Issei threw himself toward the circle, to save her, to liberate her from her captor.

And the two figures vanished in an instant, as if they had never been there.

Issei slouched on the floor, his arms gone limp. Rias hurried over and knelt down at his side and took him in her embrace. The boy buried his face into her chest, tears leaking out of his eyes.

Dante looked down at the two fine, silver rings on his palm, glinting with the filtering moonlight. He couldn’t help feeling the overpowering sense of defeat as everyone else around him did, except for the two Fallen.

He stood in silence, watching as the Devil cried…


	4. King of Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gathering the army.

# King of Kings

 

Rias had to grip the edges of her desk for support. Her strained expression showed an inner battle going on in her mind.

            “Have you any idea of what you’ve done?” Of course she was having an incredibly difficult time grasping the situation at hand, the extraordinarily foolish folly Dante had stumbled into. The crimson-haired girl rubbed her temples. “Do you even have a mere inkling of what all of this involves?”

            “All I know is that I got the essentials down,” Dante replied, shrugging her off. He sank into the cushions and crossed his leg over another. After Diodora had gone, taking an unwitting Asia with him, Rias had helped Issei to his feet and asked Dante to come with them. Although it hadn’t actually been a request. It had been an order.

            Rias threw him a sour look. “I doubt that very much.”

            “Kick his ass, that’s all I gotta do,” he winked at Issei with hopes to cheer him up. The boy sat at the edge of the couch with a grim expression on his face, propping his elbows on his thighs. “Right, kid?”

            “I don’t trust that guy,” Issei said, as if to himself, looking down at the carpet. “What if he’s not caring for her well?”

            “And you shouldn’t,” Dante adopted a more serious tone. “Just looking him in the eyes, I knew that Demon meant only bad news.”

            “There’s a difference between Devils and Demons,” Rias said, frowning at his misconception. “ _We_ are Devils. The part of you that you showed that other night when dealing with the Fallen Angel, that was a Demon.”

            He was about to reply about the difference between a crow and a raven when Issei broke in. “Then why didn’t you stop him?” The boy had turned fierce, glaring at Dante. “Why didn’t you kill him right there? Isn’t that what you do, kill Demons?”

            The boy did have a point, Dante admitted. He eyed him thoughtfully, and then his gaze drifted over to all the other Devils gathered in the Occult Research Club’s room, finally stopping on Rias. “That’s because… you guys left a good impression on me. I mean, for what you are.” His tone livened up once again. “Not to worry, kid. That bastard is as good as dead.” He gave the boy a thumbs-up.

            “I suppose…” It turned out, though, Issei was as ignorant as Dante when it came to what the Rating Game really was.

            “I don’t think you’re seeing this in the same light as I am,” Rias said, looking at Issei. “He saved Asia from death. Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

            “Yes! But you don’t understand! That’s the same Devil Asia healed and for which she got excommunicated!” Issei said quickly.

            “Maybe he was returning her the favor.”

            “But… but how did he even know where she was, that she was dying at that very moment?” Issei insisted.

            “Gotta agree with the kid,” Dante chimed in. “It does sound fishy.”

            “Well, going back to my question. You really have no clue what all of this is really about, do you?” She leaned against the edge of her desk, facing the gathered club members and the Devil Hunter.

            “Kicking ass?” Dante suggested.

            Rias heaved a sigh. “In a way, yes.”

            “Oh, my, for a Devil hybrid you don’t know much, Dante-san,” Akeno added, giggling. It was a true but unfair observation. How was he supposed to know?

            “As Issei just learned, us Devils with peerages fight in a particular way,” Rias made a hand gesture toward the table sandwiched between the two couches. Dante’s gaze fell on the chessboard and its white-and-black pieces scattered over it after an unfinished match. “I hope you’re familiar with chess.”

            “I’m competent,” Dante shrugged. “I get where you’re heading with this. Basically, we’re facing off in a sort of real life chess match where we represent the board’s figurines, no?”

            “Pretty much. It’s a simulation, so no harm comes to you or anyone once it’s over,” Rias nodded slowly. “It isn’t that simple, though. Your best course of action would be to back out from the Rating Game, though that would taint your reputation as a Devil.” From Dante’s smug smirk, she knew he didn’t give a damn about that.

            “I’m not backing out. That girl’s safe return represents my paycheck.” He shrugged at Issei’s glare. “And because we’re friends, right?” He added. The boy’s frown lightened up and he nodded.

            “See? And that’s the crux of the issue,” Rias went on. “You _have_ to back out. You cannot partake in a Rating Game not only because you don’t have your own Evil Pieces, not to mention actual servants to fight for you, but in order to participate you must become King through an Evil Piece, or else the Rating Game won’t be able to detect. You are just physically unable to play. I couldn’t use my Knight Piece on you. A King Piece won’t work either.”

            Dante realized at once the seriousness of the situation. That didn’t stop him from teasing Rias, though.

            “Well, that makes it sound like I’m handicapped,” he grinned.

            “Dante-san never takes anything seriously,” Koneko said in an accusative tone of voice. He had grown used to her glowering, her legs kicking out daintily over the couch.

            “You oughta teach me your ways, sensei,” Dante’s teasing was now directed at the taciturn girl. He made a mock a reverence. Her already furrowed brow creased even more.

            “Koneko-chan has a point. This is grave,” Rias conceded. “If you cannot participate in the Rating Game, the girl will remain bound to the Astaroth Clan. And even if you did qualify, you don’t have any servants to fight for you.”

            “Why, Rias, I do have servants of my own,” Dante drew his black pistol, turning it sideways for her to appreciate its austere design, its gold carvings glistening against the light of the candles. “Ebony, meet Rias. Rias, meet Ebony. She says she’s pleased to meet you. But careful, she’s hot-tempered and explosive when angry.” The girl raised an eyebrow. “And you already know Rebellion. He’s shy, but sadistic. Better watch out for him.”

            “I’m sure we’d make a good match,” Akeno commented on the side.

            “Merely mentioning your intent on fighting by yourself, alone, was enough,” Rias said, frowning.

            “Or I can do that, too!” Dante piped up, twirling Ebony about his finger and ceremoniously bringing it down its holster.

            “There’s not a single record in history of a King winning a Rating Game against a fully-fledged opposing team by himself alone. I don’t have to remind you that if you lose the Game, you will be forced to become Diodora’s servant, as well as lose the chance to take the girl back.”

            “I’m not opposed to making history.” Dante made a placating gesture when Rias’ gaze turned bitter again. “Fine, fine.” He looked around at all the members gathered, grinning. “Who’d like to be my slave for life?”

            “Not me,” Koneko said bluntly.

            The blond-haired boy blushed sheepishly. “Sorry, I just can’t.” Yuuto Kiba was his name, Rias’ Knight. From the way he carried himself with almost inhuman grace, Dante could tell he sliced down his enemies with the same elegance. His posture and movements were those of a highly skilled swordsman.

            “I’ll do it, for Asia,” Issei said. Steely determination sheathed his voice. Dante had expected everyone to turn him down, all of them except for Issei. He was not disappointed. The boy’s resolve was shot down nearly at once.

            “Out of the question,” Rias said. Annoyance clung to her voice. “Issei’s took weak to fight against any of Diodora’s servants.” She regarded the boy in question with a critical eye. “It’s been less than a week since you became a Devil. You have virtually no battle experience and you have yet to develop and practice with your new Devil powers. Your Sacred Gear, Twice Critical, is not exactly powerful. In order for it to be useful, your own strength must increase first.” Her gaze skimmed approvingly over her other Pieces. “As for the others, I would not want to risk their reputation. Rating Game’s losses reflect heavily upon a Devil, and it could influence their status in society. It wouldn’t do well to have them lose their first Rating Game. Not only that, but if you lost the Game, Diodora would become their master, because of the deal you made with him.”

            “But Buchou, I want to help!” Issei exclaimed, leaping to his feet, his fist raised.

            “You don’t have a lot of faith in me, do you?” Dante made mock sniffling noises. “At least Ebony understands me.” Turning serious, Dante pivoted on his seat. Raynare met his grin with a scowl. The two Fallen Angels stood against the wall, withdrawn from the gathering, shackles clasped around their necks, linking their wrists with rusted chains. Rias had been most displeased at bringing them along, but Dante had insisted. “Well, well, sweetheart. Kind of you to volunteer to be my first slave.”

            The Fallen Angel’s jaw hit the floor. “You have got to be shitting me.”

            Kalawarner looked longingly at Dante. “I’ll be your Queen.”

            “It’s settled then, two volunteers!” Dante spun back to face Rias. “Three versus sixteen should be a fairer fight, no?”

            “Okay, so how do you plan to make them your servants if you can’t be a King yourself?” Rias clicked her fingers impatiently on the hard grain.

            “Sweetheart, you forget I am part Devil,” Dante said, sticking out a thumb toward himself.

            Before Rias opened her mouth to form an exasperated retort, Dante hurried on. “My Angel part rejects the Piece, but my Devil side embraces it. Tell me, would it do any harm if I tried to keep it in place by sheer force of will? If I remember correctly, I was passed out when you attempted to use your Knight Piece on me.”

            Rias’ irritated features softened in thought. “We could certainly try that. Although you must know, it is a one-way process. There are no documented sightings of any Devils turning back into their former race.”

            “There’s always a first for everything!” Dante said brightly. He jumped lithely to his feet. “Excuse me. Gotta make a call. I know who else could become my servant for this Game.”

            “Don’t take long. My brother wants to meet you. He should be here in a few minutes,” Rias said.

            “You have a brother?” Issei asked.

Rias nodded primly. “Sirzechs Lucifer, one of the Four Great Satans that currently rule the Underworld.”

            “On a normal day job, that would’ve sounded like trouble. But what’s normal nowadays, really?” Dante smirked, turning on his heels and heading for the double oak doors. “I won’t be long.” The doors creaked on their hinges and shut behind him.

            Once outside the school’s grounds, Dante inserted the coins into the payphone’s slot, and held the phone up to his ear. The phone on the other end rang for a meager three seconds when someone answered. “Devil May Cry.”

            “Ah, Trish!” Dante said enthusiastically. He leaned casually against the wall. “How’s business holding up? Say, you’re a Devil, right?”

* * *

 

One moment there was stillness, full of anticipation. The next, an immense surge of power flooded the Occult Research Club room. Waves of pulsating energy washed over the gathered members, the Fallen Angels and the Devil Hunter, filling the candle-lit chamber to the brim with its imposing presence.

            Rias had reassured Dante that her brother, the Great Satan of Lucifer, was a friendly and carefree guy; that Sirzechs Lucifer had only a curiosity that he wished to sate after she had told him about Dante.

            And in spite of that, Dante’s first impulse was to reach for Rebellion, its black polish and balanced weight reassuring in his hand. Rias waved him away frantically. His senses went into overdrive mode, urging him to fight or take flight, pleading him to take the sword and defend everyone from the impending threat. Adrenaline shot up his veins, rushing across his frame and galvanizing his muscles, activating his inner nodes for the possibility of a full-blown Devil Trigger to guarantee his victory as the Gremory sigil shimmered on the floor, its blood-red radiance illuminating the darkest corners of the hall in a peaking flash of brilliance.

            Dante wasn’t the only one affected by such overwhelming power. Kalawarner whimpered and dropped to her knees, her eyes dilated like a deer in headlights. Raynare managed to compose herself, to curb the worst of it, but not quite. Her knees threatened to buckle, no doubt filled with desire to flee the place. The members of Rias’ peerage were undoubtedly used to such presence as they stood in wait, mostly unaffected. Issei was likely the only one who didn’t truly comprehend the scope of power the Great Devil King emanated.

            The curtain of energy lifted, gradually revealing the frame of a man second by second, until the Gremory sigil faded and the room returned to its usual gloom.

            Sirzechs Lucifer wore a warm and inviting smile. Segmented pauldrons of gray plate embroidered with gold rested on his shoulders, connecting them to the dark blue cape draping his body and rippling down to his legs. Like his sister, his crimson hair flowed gracefully down to his shoulders, bangs of red dangling over his eyes and framing his fair face.

            “Brother!” Rias said. From her beaming smile, it was clear that not only was she delighted to see him, but relieved as well. “I hope we didn’t disrupt anything important.”

            “Not at all, Rias. I have to say, I looked forward to this meeting,” his kind but solemn eyes fell on Dante. “The things you’ve told me, they’ve definitely piqued my interest.”

            Sirzechs took a stroll around the room, greeting the gathered Devils without discrimination. Much to Dante’s surprise, he treated them all almost as though they were equals.

            “Sirzechs-sama,” Akeno said, bowing her head in reverence. Kiba and Koneko followed suit. Undeniably, The Great Satan was used to this kind of demeanor directed toward him. Yet, that didn’t stop him from looking uncomfortable by such soberness, though he masked such notion well.

            “This is your brother?” Issei asked when the Devil King stood before him. Rias looked uncomfortable as she nodded sourly behind Sirzechs. His tone denoted genuine surprise, and in no way condescension.

            “Indeed,” Sirzechs said. “In truth, being showered by reverences every day can be a tiring affair. This is quite the break I deserved.”

            Issei must have caught Rias’ disapproving looks, for he suddenly turned tense and attempted to rectify his impudence. “Beg your pardon, Sirzechs-sama!”

            The Devil King seemed amused. “So you’re my sister’s new Pawn? Tell me, what’s your name?”

            Issei lightened up. “Hyoudou, Issei.”

            “Rias tells me she used all eight of her Pawn Pieces on you. You have great potential.”

            “I do?” Issei looked down at his hands, as if hoping to see it.

            “You just have to find the key and unlock it,” the Devil King threw a sly glance at his sister. “I’m sure that will make Rias happy.”

            “It’d be an honor, Sirzechs-sama!” Issei tensed up yet again, bowing in a stiff reverence.

            When he stepped over to the Fallen Angels, Raynare took a cautious step back. Kalawarner had remained on her knees all along and seemed to shrink ever more so as the Devil King approached, his kingly cape billowing at his back.

            “What do we have here?” Sirzechs said, rather kindly. He smiled down at the Fallen Angel on her knees. “You may rise.” Though he did not offer her his hand. It was clear that the Great Satan considered his fellow Devils to be his equals, or almost equals, as his position mandated. That, however, could not be said to be true for the Fallen Angels. In his eyes, the Fallen were beneath low-class Devils.

            Kalawarner remained quiet and on her knees.

            Raynare flinched when Sirzechs turned his attention on her. “If you ever see Azazel again, give him my friendly regards.”

            The Fallen Angel limited herself to a meek nod, while avoiding his sober eyes.

            “She won’t,” Dante spoke up for the first time. Sirzechs took his time to turn around, his gaze roving from Raynare and landing on Dante. He shrugged nonchalantly. “Can’t afford to yield my spoils of war.”

            Sirzechs smiled. “I have to admit, I was concerned for my sister when I learned you were a Devil Hunter. But my fears were allayed when you helped her peerage. You have my thanks.”

“I did it for the kid,” Dante threw a lazy nod at Issei. From her desk, Rias winced at his indifference.

The Devil King went on. “Rias has told me many interesting things about you. You are a Nephalem. That you threatened the Grigori, nearly provoking a continuation of the Great War. That you challenged the heir of the Astaroth Clan to a Rating Game without having a peerage, or even having Evil Pieces in your possession. All of that accomplished in just a couple of days.”

            “What can I say? I consider myself an overachiever,” Dante smirked.

            “A reckless overachiever, no doubt,” Sirzechs replied. “Tell me, what makes you so sure that you are deserving of Evil Pieces? They are bestowed upon high-class and ultimate-class Devils only. Evil Pieces are part of the reason why the pride and reputation of a Devil are of crucial importance to them.” Before Dante could answer that question, however, Sirzechs was already moving on. “But none of that will matter if you are who I think you are.”

            “Well, surely you must have heard of Devil May Cry. It’s my humble shop, one I set up to aid those who get into sticky situations,” Dante tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Well, that depends on the type of demon. Sometimes they get really messy.”

            “Apologies. I’ve never heard of it,” Sirzechs said.

            “Oh.”

            The Devil King made his way around the coffee table and regarded Kiba with a friendly eye. “If I may,” he said, making a gesture toward the leather couch.

            The blond boy’s usual grace was absent as he nodded rapidly and scooted to the side to provide ample space, a crimson blush coloring his face. “Of c-course!”

            The Devil King adjusted his cape and took his seat next to Kiba and Koneko. “You misunderstand,” Sirzechs said, turning to Dante once again. He shook his head slightly, amused. “Nephalems aren’t exactly common. In truth, they are a very exotic species, no offense.” He smiled. “Even more so, what little is known about Nephalems is that they can be extremely powerful. But like I said, it is not often you hear of an Angel falling for a Devil… or vice versa.”

            “Disgusting.” If it weren’t for his superhuman hearing, he wouldn’t have caught Raynare scoffing. She dipped her head when she noticed Dante looking at her over the Devil King’s shoulders.

            “Who was your father?” Sirzechs said, ignoring Raynare’s remark.

            Dante knew he had struck home as soon as he uttered the name. “Sparda, the Legendary Dark Knight.”

            Sirzechs remained silent. Dante felt him change at once. His face was unperturbed, yet his kind demeanor had darkened to a barely detectable degree.

            “Brother, what is it?” Rias said, her voice mixed with curiosity and concern.

            “Of course,” the Devil King said quietly. “The resemblance was there all along. I just had to make sure.”

            “Sparda? You know the name?” Rias asked. She had heard the name before. She had just shrugged it off the first time.

            This time, Sirzechs turned his attention to his sister. “As you know, the Great War was a time of great chaos and turmoil, of abundant calamities and catastrophes, of severe casualties suffered by all Three Factions. At the beginning of the Great War, one of our top military generals, Sparda, rebelled against the original Great Devil King, Satan. For what reason, we never found out. Not much is known about their clash because they both vanished from our world, or rather, our dimension. It is assumed that they took their fight elsewhere, though not much more than that can be ascertained. And without them, the Great War raged on. Adding to our declining numbers, the four descendants to the original Satan, Lucifer, Beelzebub, Asmodeus and Leviathan were claimed by death.” He looked Dante straight in the eye. “But you, you bear his resemblance. You are, without a doubt, Sparda’s descendant.” He nodded. “For that alone, you might just deserve your own Evil Pieces.” Sirzechs smiled warmly. “Your father might be considered a traitor for attacking the Great King, Satan, but really, nowadays, we’re just glad they’re all gone.”

            “Mundus was the original Satan?” Dante couldn’t stop himself from asking.

            “Mundus?” the Devil King looked bemused. “Who’s Mundus?”

            “Makes sense, after all,” Dante murmured to himself.

            “Would you happen to know what became of Sparda and the original Satan?” Sirzechs leaned in, frowning.

            “Ah, yes. Sparda carried on the fight and eventually defeated and sealed away Mun- I mean, Satan.” He had decided calling him Mundus would only add to the confusion. “However, he broke out from his seal and attempted to take over the human world… so I killed him.” Dante stretched out and laid his head on his hands behind his back.

            The silence in the room dragged on and became heavier with each passing second. That is not to say, however, that it disturbed the Devil Hunter. He enjoyed making situations feel socially uncomfortable for others.

            Despite his incredible amount of power, Sirzechs looked visibly disturbed. Dante would’ve teased Rias from the way she was staring at him unblinkingly, but her brother’s presence simply killed the desire. Kiba, Koneko, Akeno, Kalawarner and even Issei, who was new to all of this, shared similar expressions of mixed disbelief and wonder.

            “I’m calling bullshit on that,” Raynare had truly no shame sometimes.

            Dante waved his hand away. “True, I have no way of proving it to you. Well, the world didn’t end, so that’s one small piece of evidence.”

            “That may be so,” Sirzechs began. “The original Satan lives no more. That is for sure.” He smiled slyly. “Not that we’re not grateful for his passing.”

            “Oh my, that’s quite the feat, Dante-san!” Akeno said quietly, blushing.

            “Forgive me for punching you, Dante-senpai,” Koneko said, bowing her head.

            Dante smirked. “Seems it takes slaying the Prince of Darkness to be called ‘senpai’.”

            There was a sudden flash of red light. And as quick as it had come, it had gone. Out of the miniature Gremory sigil on his hands, Sirzechs produced a glossy rectangular briefcase of austere design. He placed the case carefully on the table and pushed it lightly toward the Devil Hunter.

            Dante arched his eyebrows.

            “These are the Evil Pieces Rias requested for you,” Sirzechs said. “You are worthy of them.”

            Dante whistled with appreciation. “Sweet!” The clasps clicked and he flipped open the case. Inside, sixteen white chess figurines lay draped in red plush fabric, arranged in two rows of eight. The Pieces lay dormant at the moment, their expertly crafted shapes gleaming with the dim light of the candles. Anyone else not privy to the conversation stumbling upon that briefcase would’ve merely asked where the other sixteen pieces and the chessboard were.

            “Which of you wants to go first?” Dante said, grinning. He extricated the two Bishop figurines, jumped to his feet and turned to the sulking Fallen Angels.

            Raynare lifted her arms in front of her, as if to stop him from coming any further. “You keep those things away from me!”

            “Rebellion says he wants to cut you up if you didn’t behave. I told him to shut up, that you had learned your lesson. Amirite?”

            Raynare hesitated.

            “I’m glad you’re enjoying your new gift,” Sirzechs watched his interaction with the Fallen Angel with amusement. “Although Rias also told me that she was having trouble using one of her Pieces on you, most likely due to your Nephalem nature. I mean, isn’t it somewhat early to celebrate if you’re not sure you can even use them for certain?”

            “Good point,” Dante inserted the Bishop Pieces back into the soft cushion and withdrew the King Piece. “Alright, I’m ready!”

            Sirzechs gestured at the Devil Hunter. “Rias, would you do the honors?”

            “Yes, brother,” the crimson-haired girl went around her desk, snatched the King Piece from Dante’s fingers and began the ritual.

            Her fingers clicked as they worked, dancing across his chest and adding the final touches. The Piece anchored itself and began to glow red, traversing magically through his clothes, gradually sinking in until it vanished from view.

            Dante braced for any changes brought on by the ritual. He felt mostly the same, but he could definitely tell there was an added weight on his chest. He blinked. Suddenly, the weight from his chest was gone. There was a clink down at his feet. He looked down and saw the white King Piece toppled unceremoniously on its side.

            Rias pursed her lips and crouched down to retrieve it. “Hold it in this time, will you?”

            “That’s something I never thought I’d see in my long life,” Sirzechs commented, chuckling.

            After the ritual was over with for a second time, Dante focused on keeping the King Piece in place. He could actively feel it inching toward the edge, threatening to slip or topple at any second, but with a good measure of conscientious effort, he managed to keep it safe inside. From time to time, he felt the urge to press his hand against his chest, as though hoping that would keep the Piece from sliding out.

            “Would you like to revive the long-extinct Sparda household?” Sirzechs asked, watching with interest. “After all, you need a family name so the spectators at the Rating Game find it easier to identify you. After that, you’ll need it for every day life, should you want to join our society.”

            “I think I’ll have to pass on that last offer,” Dante smirked. “I still love my job. The way I see it, this is just temporary. A fleeting necessity, if you will.”

            “I see. Temporary for you, though. The ritual is permanent for whoever joins your peerage.”

            Dante nodded and removed his two Bishop figurines from the case and handed them to Rias. “It’s their turn now.” He pointed at the Fallen Angels.

            It seemed the moment Raynare dreaded most had arrived. “No, stay away from me!”

            Rias looked at her, her kind features contorted with contempt. “I should pulverize you where you stand. You attacked my beloved Pawn, and for that, you shouldn’t even be drawing breath.”

            “No, please, you don’t understand!” her eyes were dilated as she took steps back in time as Rias approached. She tried to separate her arms, linked together by the sturdy chains. “You can’t do this to me! I’ve done so much, worked so hard to rise in rank, just to have it all taken away? I can’t stoop to such level, to get down on the filth!”

            “You can’t stoop any lower at this point even if you wanted,” Rias growled.

            Suddenly Dante stood right next to Raynare. Rebellion’s cutting edge leaned on his shoulder. He looked at the sword’s hilt as though he were having a conversation with it. “What were you saying, Rebellion? Raynare’s being naughty again?” The Fallen Angel recoiled and bumped against the wall. Dante leaned casually against it on his side, facing her. “Well, are you?”

            A whimper escaped her clamped mouth. Dante nodded to Rias to begin the ritual. The Devil held the Bishop figurine right over Raynare’s cleavage. She turned to Dante.

            “You were already half Devil, so the process was quick,” she nodded to Raynare. “She, on the other hand, has to undergo the transformation, so it will take longer.”

            “We’ve got all the time in the world. Well, not really, but you know what I mean,” Dante said.

           

* * *

 

 

The shackles came off.

Kalawarner had been invited to join the rest of the Devils to sit among them on the couch. Her expression showed only bewilderment, and gradually turned a small degree friendlier as she acclimatized herself to her new body and the people surrounding her. Despite that, it was obvious that her disdain against Devils had not completely subsided. She could, at least, tolerate them, unlike her counterpart.

            Raynare had been invited, too. She mouthed off at Rias and both of them exchanged insults, hurling abuse and words in general Issei clearly would have never expected could come out of his Buchou’s refined mouth. Raynare sat on the floor in the corner of the room, withdrawn from the rest, clasping her hands around her knees and rocking on the spot as though she were going mad.

            “So three against sixteen?” Sirzechs commented. “This should be interesting.”

            “Are you attending?” Rias asked, surprised.

            Sirzechs smiled wide. “Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

            Rias frowned. She turned to Dante. “Didn’t you say you were going to ask someone else to join your peerage?”

            Dante scratched his head. Then the memory hit him like a truck. Trish had never sounded so outraged. He had had to hang up on her before he suffered her wrath. “Eh… didn’t work out.” Suddenly his King Piece slithered out of place, rolling down the folds of his black shirt and falling on his lap. “Dammit!”

            “That’s going to be a problem,” Sirzechs said, watching as his sister performed the ritual to insert the Piece back into place. “I was thinking, if that happens during the Rating Game, there’s a chance it could mean instant defeat, since you’re the King. Of course, that’s never happened before. I’d be preferable if didn’t happen at all. It would be anticlimactic, to say the least.”

            “It won’t happen,” Dante said firmly.

            “I’m curious. What does it feel like?” Sirzechs said, propping his elbows on his legs.

            “I can tell you it’s not a grand feeling.”

            “Don’t you think it might affect your overall performance? Having to concentrate to keep the Piece inside all the time must be taxing, not only to your mind, but your body as well.”

            “There’s a good chance of that happening,” Dante said, nodding. “Too soon to know for sure.”

            “Rias,” Sirzechs’ smile was gentle. “This Rating Game is already drawing lots of attention. Several of the other Houses’ top members will be present, Ajuka Beelzebub and myself included. There’s a good chance that we might be graced by Serafall Leviathan’s presence as well.”

            “Is that so?” Rias said, not quite seeing his point.

            “So I thought it would be a good chance for your Pieces to gain a good reputation if they win the Game. After all, you’re not one to let good opportunities go to waste, are you?”

            Rias hesitated. “I’ve definitely reconsidered after learning of Dante-san’s feats, it’s just,” she looked down. “Were he to lose, he and the Pieces involved would have to become Diodora’s servants. I couldn’t bear even the thought of that happening.”

            Sirzechs gestured toward her peerage. Issei looked at her expectantly. “Have you listened to what they have to say if you’re feeling indecisive?”

            “Please, Buchou! Let me help Dante-san win!” Issei exclaimed almost at once. He had clearly been waiting for this chance all along.

            “This one’s fire burns strong,” Sirzechs said, chuckling.

            “I’m feeling like frying something alive,” Akeno spoke up, giggling. “I’ll help, too.”

            “Don’t leave me out. It would be an honor to fight beside the one that defeated the original Satan,” Kiba said, bowing to Dante in deference. “On a side note, I’d love to spar against you some time.”

            “You got it,” Dante gave him a thumbs-up.

            “If Kiba-senpai goes, I go, too,” Koneko offered. “I’ll crush your foes for you, Dante-senpai.”

            Rias stifled a sob. Her eyes twinkled. “I’m proud of all of you. You will participate in your first Rating Game before me. I believe in all of you. Please win, for me.”

            Her four Pieces spoke up in unison. “Yes, Buchou!”

            “A Queen, a Knight, a Rook, a Pawn and two Bishops,” Sirzechs said. “It’s looking bright for you now.”

            “There’s only one thing left,” Dante said. He reached into his pockets, fingers digging until he felt the two small, metal objects. Twilight Healing glinted delicately on his palm. He extended it toward Kalawarner. The former Fallen Angel looked at him with surprise. “I entrust this to you for the duration of the Game. Don’t let me down.”

            Kalawarner hesitated. She picked up the two rings gingerly and slid each into a finger on each hand. Her dark blue hair showered down her back and her long bangs hooded her unwavering eyes. “I won’t, Dante-sama.”


	5. Speak of the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Speak of the Devil, and he doth appear

# Speak of the Devil…

 

It had been a tense morning.

            From the moment she woke up after a sleepless night, Rias had been utterly distressed about the upcoming Rating Game between Dante and Diodora Astaroth that day. The thought that there was a chance that Dante might lose haunted her dreams and her waking moments, causing her to want to back out from her decision. She found she had no appetite to sate, and a lump in her throat that refused to clear out. In her worry, she nearly lost her footing, forgot to fasten up the last button of her school uniform, and left her crimson hair tangled up and bedraggled as she made her way through the old school building and into the Occult Research Club room.

            The doors swung open and she blinked. Even after three days, she still had not gotten used to the three of them sleeping in her clubroom.

            Dante lay sprawled on one of the couches, his mouth agape, drool dangling from the corner of his lips, his red coat all wrinkled up. His legs lay splayed out, one stretched over the edge and the other one planted on the floor at his side. One of his arms hung limply, touching the carpet, and the other rested on his rising and depressing chest.

            It did not surprise Rias that Raynare had occupied the other couch for the night. Her head rested delicately on her hands, showering the black leather with her grimy jet-black hair, and her pearl white legs were curled sensually toward her stomach. Rias supposed Dante really had his principles, having had the time and space to themselves all night. No doubt Raynare would’ve used her looks to her advantage, Rias thought bitterly.

            By Raynare’s side on the floor, Kalawarner lay uniformly on her back, her head resting on one of the cushions.

            The others would be arriving shortly. Rias shook herself from her stupor and tried to wake Dante. The Devil Hunter slapped her hand off and mumbled: “Gerroff me, just a bit longer…”

            Rias sighed, walked over to her desk, grabbed the chair by the backrest, and dragged it out from under it, its legs screeching loudly on the marble, the shrill accentuated by the resonant echoes of the room. She sat down and laced her fingers together.

            Dante snapped awake in a second, bolting upright, halting his fall from the couch and hurriedly drawing Ivory from its holster. Kalawarner sat up from the floor and shot a glare at the offender.

Raynare’s drowsy eyes found focus on her and she frowned. “You look like shit today.”

Rias gave her a sour smile. “That must mean a lot, coming from you.”

Dante shambled to his feet and made a visible effort to open his eyes. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing, yet,” Rias said. It did bother her that he seemed unaware and unprepared for the Game. “But today’s the day, so you’d best get ready.”

“Aye, cap’n!” Dante wave his hand and shuffled to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Rias was grateful that the silence that immediately settled in the room broke when Akeno, Koneko, Kiba and Issei appeared at the door, one after another.

“Good morning, Buchou,” Akeno and Koneko said.

“Good morning, all,” said Kiba, smiling at Rias first and then at the former Fallen Angels. To his credit, he looked unabashed when they returned the gesture with a scowl.

Issei, on the other hand, kept his gaze trained on the floor as he made his way to the couch and sat down, still looking away. Rias could tell that Asia’s plight ate away at his conscience. She understood him. Today was the day, the day that would seal not only the priestess’ fate, but Dante and her own Pieces’ as well, so naturally, he would show this kind of behavior.

Dante came around, patted him on the shoulders and sank into the cushions at his side.

Rias clicked her fingers together. With everyone gathered, the silence dragged on and on, bordering on discomfort and awkwardness. The atmosphere felt heavy and compressed with tense anticipation, especially for Issei and herself. Her other Pieces knew what a loss would mean, and yet, they visibly showed less worry and more confidence than her. It only made her feel guilty not having enough faith in them. Dante might not see it in the same light, but a Devil’s first Rating Game was a big deal. That, and their allegiance to her household was at stake if they lost.

“My, don’t look so glum, Buchou,” Akeno broke the silence. Her best friend tended to be the first to notice her moments of unrest, and understand them. “We have trained for this moment. We are ready.”

“I’m not,” Issei said, chancing a glance at Rias. The forlorn tone in his voice almost broke her heart. “You were right. I have little to no battle experience, and I’m afraid I’m just going to be extra baggage and screw everyone up.” Rias shot down Raynare’s look of approval with her venomous gaze. She returned to the boy. They had been over this before. It was only natural that such concerns would rise again in times of dire distress, that he would begin to doubt his true potential. “Despite that though, I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t give my all to save Asia.”

Rias let the silence settle once again before answering. “Don’t let your doubts define who you are. When you feel weak, downtrodden, demoralized, just remember, eight Pawn Pieces went into you. Even my brother recognized your latent potential, waiting to be unlocked.” She smiled. “Perhaps this is your chance to find the key.” She raised a finger. “Don’t forget your special ability as a Pawn: Promotion. You can become as strong as Koneko, as quick as Kiba, and as powerful as Akeno.” She could feel his spirits rising. “Pawns are truly the most underappreciated. Reach the other side of the board, and lay waste to Diodora’s household.”

“Yes, Buchou!” Issei cried out, raising a clenched fist.

“And what are we supposed to do, exactly?” Raynare asked, frowning.

Rias didn’t deign herself to reply. Dante answered instead. “You, sweetheart, will be in charge of the ranged artillery and support.” He turned to Kalawarner at her side. “And you will be our healer and assist Raynare in raining hell on our opponents.”

“Those were supposed to be my rings,” Raynare said under her breath, throwing a covetous glance at Twilight Healing, encircling Kalawarner’s fingers.

The time had come at last.

A white seal shimmered on the floor, bright scintillating light illuminating the room. Out of the Lucifuge sigil, came Grayfia.

“Sirzechs-sama has sent me to escort the Sparda household to the battle arena,” the maid announced, bowing to Rias. She turned demurely to the others. “I am Grayfia Lucifuge. I serve the Gremory Clan. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I hope you’re all ready.”

“Battle arena?” Issei asked.

“It’s a dimension designed specifically for the Rating Game,” Rias said. “It’s the most suitable place for a Devil to show off their true potential, no matter how destructive it can get, without having to worry about damages to the area.”

“Sweet!” Dante piped up, twirling Ivory about his finger. “Turns out I have the right toys just for that.”

“I think it’s prudent to remind all of you, many will be watching this Game,” Grayfia said. “The stands are filled and the event will be televised. Three of the four Great Satans will be attending, plus most, if not all, the Lords of each Clan.” She regarded everyone except Rias with a critical eye, including Raynare and Kalawarner. “This is truly your moment to shine.”

Crimson plate materialized to encase Issei’s forearm, its bright emerald jewel on its back gleaming. Twice Critical. “I am ready.”

Koneko slipped combat gloves into her small, dainty hands. She cracked her knuckles menacingly. “Same.”

Yuuto rose to his feet. He held his sheathed longsword at his side, gripping the weapon by the hilt, ready to draw. He bowed to Grayfia in reverence.

Akeno went ahead and, in a flash of naked exposure, her uniform clothes transformed into a traditional _miko_ attire, allowing her to garner all her inner power and show the audience how she can live up to the epithet of ‘Priestess of Thunder and Light’.

Dante whistled in appreciation and Issei gawked at her Vice-President. “I saw it! I saw it!” the boy cried, pointing a trembling finger at the giggling girl.

“Alright, let’s kick ass, team!” Dante said, jumping to his feet and holstering Ivory in one dramatic motion.

Rias heaved a sigh. She rose from her desk, went around it, and snatched the lonely King Piece standing on a corner of the coffee table.

“Oops, forgot about that.” Dante shrugged when she turned him around and inserted the King Piece into place, her fingers dancing across his chest.

Rias couldn’t help the pleading tone creeping into her voice. “Don’t let it come out during the Game.” Dante’s eyes showed understanding. He nodded grimly, which was very unlike him. “You are the King, and as such, you cannot risk yourself to the enemy. Don’t be reckless.” Her tone dropped to an imploring whisper. “Whatever you do, just don’t lose…”

“Understood,” was his steadfast response.

“Come. It’s time,” Grayfia said. She gestured at the spot by her side. The white crest of Lucifuge came alive with bright radiance, the air around it flickering with power.

“Let’s rock,” Dante said, taking firm strides toward the circle. Rias didn’t notice the moment Rebellion had slithered into his grip. She supposed that was a good thing.

Queen, Rook, Knight, Pawn and Bishop took their place, clustered around the King. One piece was still missing, though. Raynare, shoulders slumped, withdrawn from the others, looked averse to step forward and join the peerage. “How did this ever happen to me…?”

Rias fought the urge to slap her across the face. That didn’t the stop the sudden surge of power streaming in her veins, saturating every inch of her frame with crackling energy. Her murderous gaze bore into the former Fallen Angel. “They lose because of you… I will end you…”

Raynare cringed back.

“You said you wanted to rise in rank, didn’t you?” Dante tried to reason. “Haul your ass over here and show the Underworld what you’re made of. This is your chance to start anew. Seize it and show everyone your worth.” He smirked. “Or I can just ask Rebellion to do it for you, right?” He threw a side-glance at the gleaming greatsword, leisurely resting on his shoulder.

Head sagging, Raynare trudged past the imposing figure that was Rias and joined her peerage within the circle.

Grayfia handed out the transmitters for communication and each of them put them on in their ears.

The suspense was too much for her. With only seconds left, Rias sputtered last-minute orders at her Pieces, hoping to somehow turn the tide in their favor if they followed suit. “Akeno, set traps around the base. Yuuto, scout and find the enemies’ position. Don’t let them get the jump on you. Koneko, protect the others. Issei, try to get promoted, but don’t go charging in recklessly. Dante… don’t get killed.”

The teasing had returned to his voice. “Yes, moooom.”

Just then, the white circle beneath their feet glowed white-hot and their solid figures gradually disintegrated, sweeping the air from their particles and transporting them outside this dimension. The Rating Game had begun.

Grayfia was the only one left. “Rias-sama, your brother is waiting.”

Rias took a deep breath and joined Grayfia inside the white circle. It flashed and the room was silent again.

 

 

* * *

 

The sun was blinding at first, its heat like a palpitating living thing, sending shimmering waves of energy that distorted the air and created mirages that haunted the rolling hills of withered pasture and crumbling ruins, intent on cooking the land and boiling the water upon which it hung.

            Issei shaded his scrunched up eyes. “Oh my God, whose idea for a battle arena was this?”

            “We’re on-air live, Ise-kun. Everyone can hear what we say,” Kiba said, scratching his head ruefully.

            “Grayfia said the stands were filled. It all looks too quiet for my liking,” said Dante, scanning the area. They stood right outside an ancient great fortress of stone, its walls battered and its battlements breached. Rolling hills of dirt and withered grass extended far around. Clusters of trees formed dense canopies and created cover from both the sun and scouring eyes in small woodland areas. Crumbling ruins of other castles and fortresses jutted out of the ground in the distance, sparsely scattered across the battlefield, former shadows of their opulent grandness, now jagged piles of rock, gravel and mortar.

            “We are in a stadium,” Akeno explained. “The audience can see you, but you cannot see them. Everything we’re standing on right now is part of a transdimensional representation of a battle arena that the organizers decided on for us.”

“Kooky,” Dante said. He let out a small whistle of wonder.

            “Guys, guys! What the hell is that?” Issei pointed a trembling finger.

They knew what he meant at once. Miles away, a curtain of black parted the world in two. In stark contrast to their side, the other was showered in night, an inviting dark veil where moonlight would cool off their backs, rather than sunlight to make them melt in their own sweat. While the sun certainly had reach on the other side, the laws of nature didn’t seem to apply, keeping at bay from tearing through the darkness and scattering it. If he hadn’t been privy to the fact that they were in a simulation, Dante would’ve believed he was going crazy.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” the voice boomed across the sky, female, high-pitched and extremely cloy. “BOYS AND GIRLS, OLD AND YOUNG, GREAT-KING BAEL, ARCHDUKES, DUKES, PRINCES AND PRINCESSES-” she was interrupted, though they couldn’t hear by whom. “ARA, DON’T BE LIKE THAT SIRZECHS-CHAN!” she cleared her throat. “ANYHOW—WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Understanding seemed to dawn on the voice. “OH, IT’S TOO LOUD?” The rumbling, humming feedback that trailed after the voice lowered in intensity as it was tuned down. “ _Oops, sorry about that. Anyhow, as I was saying, welcome everyone. It is I, Devil King Leviathan, Serafall, and I will perform as arbiter in the Rating Game between the Astaroth Clan and the newly reestablished Sparda Clan_.”

“Another Devil King?” Issei asked, surprised.

“ _I insisted on watching over this battle after learning the heroic and noble intentions behind it._ ” Her tone became almost overzealous in her admiration.“ _A damsel in distress, a white knight willing to sacrifice it all, his life and his household on the line, battling for the freedom of an unsullied girl…!_ ”

“Not to be a buzzkill, or anything,” Dante said, looking toward the sky. “But I’m getting a paycheck after this.”

An unearthly quietness settled. There it was again, that socially uncomfortable silence he was so good at creating.

“Prince Charming over here is going to be the one doing the rescuing, right?” Dante amended, squeezing Issei on the shoulder. The boy blushed, unsure of where to look at.

“ _It’s still admirable, putting so much at stake-_ ” Serafall began, but was interrupted by someone on the other end. “ _My, my, don’t be so impatient, Ajuka-chan. Fine! Moving on to the battlefield. This is a loose representation of the battlefield where one of the original Satans, Lucifer, fell in battle against the Angels. As you can see, it is really big. You may also have noticed that the other side of the board is covered in darkness. It’s a neat little twist that Ajuka-chan came up with. Basically, one half will be bathed in sunlight, and the Pieces under the sun will suffer from lower reaction times and reduced stamina. Meanwhile, those under the veil of darkness will gain a boost to all their senses and abilities. Pretty magical, huh? And most fun of all, the sides switch sporadically, so you never know when you will greet either the sun or the moon._ ”

“Like we weren’t already fucked,” Raynare grumbled, her arms crossed tightly around her.

“We’re not ten minutes in and the audience already has a pretty solid image of you, Raynare,” Akeno said with a smile that didn’t quite match the disdainful undertone in her voice.

Before Raynare could shoot a biting response, Serafall’s voice echoed across the sky. “ _Now, familiarize yourselves with your base. Diodora-kun’s base stands at the far edge of the currently dark side of the arena, inside the ruins of Archdemon’s Belial castle. Dante-san’s base stands on the exact opposite, in the currently lit area of the battlefield, within the open remains of Lucifer’s fortress. For Pawns to promote, they must cross the river of lava in the middle of the arena and be within sight of the enemy King’s castle. Also, Phoenix Tears will not be provided this time. And finally, there will be a special rule. If things come to an impasse, a timer will be set, and when it runs out, the King with the most Pieces standing will be the winner!_ ”

“What? That’s not fair! We’re less than half Diodora’s numbers!” Issei exclaimed.

“But we’re twice as pretty,” Dante said, smirking.

“ _That you are,_ ” Serafall simpered. She probably got reprimanded on the other end. “ _That’s mean, Sirzechs-chan! Well then, get going. You have only fifteen minutes to strategize and do all of that stuff. Let the Rating Game begin!_ ”

The humming of the microphone died down at once and the battlefield fell silent. The fortress of Lucifer stood battered down, its crenellated battlements sundered, and its dark, somber halls yawned like the maw of a slumbering beast.

Akeno, Kiba and Koneko clearly had the most experience. Immediately after Serafall began the game, the three of them gathered around Dante, huddled together conspiratorially. Issei caught up and joined into the circle. Like always, the two former Fallen Angels stood withdrawn from the group.

“Charging in recklessly has always been my norm, but I guess we’ll do it your way this time,” Dante said. “What have you got in mind?”

“Well, you’re the King. Shouldn’t you be giving us orders?” Kiba said.

“Strategy has never been my strong suit.” Koneko threw him an exasperated look. Dante made a placating gesture. “What? I’ve never been a team player. Besides, there’s an art to rashly storming the enemy without prior planning.” Rebellion gleamed at his side. “Come on, let’s go kick some ass then.”

“Buchou asked you to not get killed,” the white-haired girl stepped in to block his way. “The King always stays behind.”

“I don’t plan on dying any time soon,” he shrugged. “What do you take me for? Cannon fodder?” He patted Issei on the back. “That’s his job.” When the boy put on an outraged expression, Dante quickly added. “Just kidding. Although I do have a plan. Tell me, what’s better than one Queen?”

Akeno arched her eyebrows.

Dante raised two fingers. “Two Queens! Right, Issei?”

“Dante-san, how do you plan on getting Issei to Belial’s castle?” Kiba reasoned. “As you can see,” he pointed toward the dark side of the arena, “there’s some cover and a few hiding places between here toward the middle, but the rest is all open field and you will be exposed to the enemy from miles away. Not only that, but they will surely have set traps and laid ambush to the unwary. And we can’t leave our base unprotected either, or Diodora’s Pawns will get promoted if they come close.”

“Like I said, I have a plan,” Dante said, flashing a smile at the Knight. “No doubt the enemy Pawns will attempt to get promoted. Rias is a good strategist. Do what she told you to do. Akeno, set traps around the perimeter. Kiba, scout ahead and keep enemy Pieces from crossing over to our side. Holler if you’re in trouble. Koneko, stay here and guard the base. Don’t move away from here, whatever happens.” His voice harshened abruptly. “Raynare, I don’t claim to be able to read your mind, but dammit, if we lose because of you, I’ll personally tell Diodora to have his way with you. So just keep watch with Koneko.” Her eyes widened in response and she nodded rapidly. “Kalawarner, Issei, you’re both coming with me. On your way, let’s go!”

They each went their separate ways.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh, man, this heat is killing me…” Issei complained. His shoulders slouched and his sluggish strides struggled to keep up with Dante and Kalawarner’s. The dark side of the arena loomed ever closer, a thin veil of cool darkness, inviting in its arms, a tantalizing shelter from the blistering sun. “Thank goodness we’re almost there, finally!”

            The transmitter buzzed in Dante’s ear. “Traps are set, Dante-san,” Akeno said.

            “Roger, stay out of sight now.”

            “I’ve set down a few traps of my own. Mirages, to be precise,” Kiba chimed in on the other end.

            “Good job, guys, stay put.” Dante said, lowering his hand from his ear.

            “Dante-sama,” Kalawarner said. Her usually stern features grappled with indecision as she spoke up. “It is not my place to question your resolve… but why are you, the King, escorting a Pawn to the other side like this? Isn’t it… suicidal?”

            “That it is, my dear Bishop, very much so. Which is what makes this all the more fun.” He winked up at the sky, where he knew Rias would be watching. He could imagine her covering up her face in embarrassment. “I have my own aces up my sleeves. Reckless, may be so, but reckless is what the enemy won’t expect.” He gave her a studious look. “Kaley, can I call you Kaley? It’s short and sweeter to the tongue, and it sort of fits you.”

            Her eyes twitched slightly, and then she blushed, prompting her to look away. “O-of c-course, Dante-sama.”

            “Alright, Kaley. I can tell that’s not the only thing you were going to ask me. Go on, I’m good at keeping secrets,” he said lewdly, waggling his eyebrows at her.

            She nodded. “Why did you grant me Twilight Healing, and not Raynare-sama?”

            “Simply because I don’t trust the broad,” he said. Kalawarner flinched at the word.

            “It was their fault that Asia got caught up in all of this in the first place! How can you trust her?” Issei suddenly exclaimed behind them in a quick, heated outburst.

            “Hey, Issei, Issei, give ‘em a break, will ya? They’re risking their lives and status for the girl after all,” there was an obvious sarcastic undertone in his voice. “Not that they really had a choice…” He turned cheerful. “Besides, Kaley here is a changed girl, right?”

            Kalawarner stiffened up. “Of c-course, Dante-sama!”

            “So… spill the beans already, who sent you after Issei and the girl? Who’s the mastermind behind all of this mess?” Dante said. He didn’t think the former Fallen could tense up even further, wrong though he was.

            Kalawarner opened her mouth just slightly to let the smallest sound out, but he could not make out any of her mumblings. Then barely. “…Not now…”

            “Of course,” Dante shrugged his shoulders casually. “Not that it’ll matter if we lose the Game…”

            Nobody saw it coming.

            The blazing beam of blue light streaked in the air, like a thunderbolt striking the earth, and it found flesh. Sweltering, it disintegrated the cloth, singed off the hair, scorched through his skin, speared into his chest, ramming him backward into the air, and in the time it took the magic orb to leave the body, it melted the organs within, shooting out from his backside and finally exploding on the grass, creating a small-sized crater trailing with smoke.

            Dante was dimly aware of Issei crying out his name. Dark, crimson blood pooled around the spot where he lay. More spilled out of his mouth.

            Chuckling, he wondered how many more times someone was going to break his heart.

 

* * *

 

 

Rias nearly pulled the hair from her scalp. “ _What is he doing?!_ ”

            The transdimensional tear of reality that allowed observation of the Game focused now on three figures trekking across rolling hills under the overbearing heat of the sun. Issei lagged behind, just as she expected, trudging after the more measured and confident strides of Dante and Kalawarner, side by side.

            “I’m sure he has a nice plan cooked up for us to see,” Sirzechs tried to reassure her. She knew him only too well.

            “That’s certainly a strange way to go about it,” Ajuka Beelzebub put in.

            “But those are my servants! He can’t go gambling their lives like that!” Rias insisted. “Oh, my goodness! I told him so many times to not do anything rash!”

            “So you were saying that he’s a Nephalem?” Serafall said. She had insisted on expanding the subject about Dante. “And the Evil Piece rejected him, but somehow, out of his own volition, he managed to subdue it?”

            “Impressive, I have to admit,” Sirzechs agreed. “That man is full of surprises. Remember, I still want to keep this a secret, but what do you make of his claims to have defeated the original Satan?”

            “It’s certainly a huge assertion, and extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence,” Ajuka replied.

            “He called him Mundus,” Sirzechs went on. “I don’t claim to be an expert on this, but I think our friend, Dante, might not even be from this world, probably from a completely different dimension of our own.”

            “Besides being so dashing, I wonder if I could make him my servant…” Serafall said absent-mindedly, resting her chin on her hand.

            “It would only be temporary, though,” Sirzechs supplied.

            “It doesn’t have to be more than that,” she replied with a lewd smirk.

            “I feel like I have to apologize for my brother’s behavior, Rias-chan,” Ajuka said, changing the topic.

            Rias felt herself blushing. “Oh no, please don’t! He took in a servant as he saw fit. I understand him, but my Pawn,” she gestured at the transdimensional tear, “and his mercenary there, decided to escalate things.”

            “I don’t see the issue with that,” Sirzechs smiled warmly. “Actually, let’s hope someone does the same for you when the time comes.”

            Rias frowned. She followed his gaze and immediately regretted it when she saw him approaching their booth. She turned away hurriedly.

            “Hello there, darling. I knew I’d find you here,” Riser Phenex said, entering their booth. Ajuka and Serafall looked away, evidently uncomfortable by his presence. If only they knew how she felt. Were it not for his obnoxious personality and hot-tempered attitude, his roguish dashing looks would’ve attracted her somewhat. In her eyes, though, he was a pig given Devil form.

            “You’ve come to bother me already?” Rias said coldly, her eyes intent on the Rating Game.

            “Just came over to say hi,” he chuckled. “After all, we’re marrying soon, right?”

            “I don’t wish to see you until then,” Rias pulled away from his grasp, tossing her flowing red hair back.

            “Hey, don’t be like that, let’s enjoy the Game together…”

            “Don’t overstep your bounds, Riser-kun,” Sirzechs said gently. Despite the calm tone in his voice, Riser nodded humbly. Not that being humble lent easily to someone like him.

            “I think I know who’s going to help me keep you off my back,” Rias said with a sour smile, eyeing Dante’s walking form with increasing interest. If Issei could resort to his help, why not her?

            Her eyes suddenly widened with shock, and her heart jolted up to her throat. Dante was hit. A sphere of magic entered his body and came back out from the other side. The Devil Hunter slumped on his back, and blood pooled around it.

            Riser burst out with a roar of laughter. “Who? That useless lump?!” He walked out of the booth. “Well, good luck with that, _fiancée_.”

            Serafall leaned in on the microphone, about to voice Dante’s defeat.

            “It’s not over yet,” Sirzechs smiled, pointing at the tear. Rias looked up, hopeful.

            It was Twilight Healing come to the rescue.

 

* * *

 

They had fallen into the trap, just as he had expected. Terribly predictable.

            Two hooded figures bolted out of the underbrush in a ruckus of rustling leaves and snapping branches, and ran toward the dilapidated stones of Lucifer’s castle, leaving the safety of organic cover behind.

            The two girls yelled in unison as soon as they reached the stone. “Promotion, Queen!” They opened their arms wide, as if to receive a blessing from the sky.

            The looks of disappointment in their eyes couldn’t have been more obvious… and satisfactory. They lowered their arms, evidently bemused.

            “Good luck making it work out,” Kiba said at last, revealing his position. He walked calmly out of the undergrowth in ghostly silence, the leaves the Pawns had rustled and the twigs they had snapped in their hastened rush lying quiet after his graceful feather treads.

            “What are you doing here?” one of the hooded girls said as they spun around to meet their foe. The ruins of the fortress gradually vanished, turning into empty air, a mirage blown by the wind, leaving nothing but dust in its wake.

            “I’m just doing my job. And you fell for it.” Their gazes followed his hand, trailing quietly toward the hilt of the sword at his left side. With a silent steely rasp, the demon sword slid out. Tip gleaming, the blade sliced the air with a silent stroke as he pointed it at them. He beckoned them with his fingers. “Well then, come at me!”

 

 

* * *

 

“What are you waiting for?! Do your thing! Heal him!” Issei shouted at the top of his lungs, throwing an exaggerated gesture at the Devil Hunter, lying gasping on the bloodied ground. He felt the blistering heat zip by as a blue orb grazed his head, centimeters away from blowing it up like ripe fruit. He ducked and threw himself on the ground, his arms wrapped protectively around his head.

            Kalawarner stood rooted to the ground, utterly paralyzed from the shock of the moment. Even Issei’s screams couldn’t snap her back to reality. The blue orb hissed past her side, nearly exploding on the boy, and she finally reacted, spinning to face the attacker. From the dark side of the arena, a flash of light glinted in the distance. The blue orb grew in size as it flew toward her, speeding like a bullet. Kalawarner slapped the orb aside as it came close, deflecting it and completely deviating its trajectory, cratering the ground far from their position. She retaliated, producing an electrifying spear of light and hurling it with all her strength. With an educated guess, it was a shot in the dark at best, quite literally.

            His Bishop spun on the spot and threw herself on her knees next to Dante. Her hands hovered over the grisly, gaping hole and Twilight Healing did its job. The warm, emerald glow issued forth and it bathed the wound in its healthy warmth. Organs remolded to their original shapes, heart pumping and lungs inflating. The shattered ribcage regrew, encasing around the organs. Muscle rebuilt, fiber by fiber, interweaving and creating new, healthy tissue. The smoking skin reknitted, closing the hole and rejuvenating it with new, pink flesh.

            His eyes flicked open almost at once. Dante leapt to his feet, arms flying into his coat and both Ebony and Ivory flashed their respective colors under the sun. And he fired repeatedly into the dark, guns exploding with smoke, recoiling in their wielder’s hands, bullet casks ejecting and piling up on the ground. Dante continued to fire with Ebony as he turned around, gripped Issei by the collar to haul him to his feet and then pulled him after, taking long, firm strides toward the partition in the middle of the arena.

            Kalawarner joined in the suppressing fire, hurling spears of light at the other side, sprinting after Dante and Issei.

            The river of lava crawled sluggishly from end to end, distorting the air over it in shimmering waves of hotness. Not two seconds over it, and its infernal heat had become unbearable to Issei.

            “Brace yourself!” Dante yelled.

“No, what are you doing?!” Issei cried.

They ran headlong toward the depressing slope, Dante dragging the boy against his will. He held on to his arm for dear life. The heat spiked, threatening to burn off their clothes and sear off their hair. Issei screamed with dread. Dante’s legs mustered all their strength as they reached the slanting edge, focused that strength on the plants of his feet, and jumped high. They arched over the molten rock, speeding across its width in a second and crossing the veil of darkness into the other half of the arena. They landed on the withered grass, rolling to a halt to suppress the fall.

Kalawarner had sprung wings and flown after them, touching ground lightly next to their spot.

Dante bounded to his feet and helped Issei stand.

The coolness the darkness offered was another completely different story. In stark contrast, the moonlight caressed their backs with soothing pleasure, cooling off their skin and drying up the sweat with its chilling breeze. Thanks to their enhanced Devil senses, the glimmer of the moon came in streams, lighting up the environment in silver and allowing them to see clearly in the night. The shift was a real, concrete thing, as their senses became heightened, and their stamina regenerated in an instant.

Issei heaved a sigh of pleasure. “Ah, that’s much better now.”

Suddenly, the darkness was receding, scattering as sunlight shone through, cruel and inexorable. They looked around, puzzled. The moon vanished, as if blinded out of existence, and in its place, a white-hot orb of fire took its place in the sky, rays of terrible sunlight buffeting them with waves of heat.

            “Ah, fuck me!” Issei exclaimed. “Finally, thirty seconds in on the other side and they make the change on us!”

A blue orb of magic blazed past their faces. Kalawarner retaliated with a spear. Dante saw her, the hooded figure taking cover behind trees and underbrush farther ahead up the hill.

“This is it!” Dante said, glancing at Issei. “I’ll take you to the enemy base, you promote yourself to Queen, and we scram. Got it?”

Issei looked bemused. “Yeah… but how?!”

“I’ll take care of the how. Just do your part. Kaley,” he flashed her a smile. “Give us some cover. Stay here. Be right back. Just a few seconds.”

“Understood,” she nodded. The spear of light whizzed from her fingertips and it tore off the bark of a tree upon impact. The figure ducked to the side.

The Devil Trigger was sufficient. He was somewhat grateful for having been speared like that, since it gave him an extra boost to his adrenaline rush. “Ready or not, here goes nothing,” Dante said. He clutched Issei by the wrist, and he forced time itself to come to a grinding halt. Falling leaves remained suspended in the air, unmoving. Kalawarner stood still like a statue, poised to hurl a spear of light, her features scrunched up as she took aim and measured the throw. Issei’s face was a mask of steely determination at his side.

Now he only had less than a minute time of Quicksilver before his Devil Trigger drained of adrenaline. There was no time to waste.

Dragging a motionless Issei after him, Dante took off in a sprint. Light as a feather, he flew, sped across the field unimpeded.

He spotted them at last, and felt unable to do anything about them. Farther off in the distance, a Knight stood rooted to her spot, poised in a running stance as she no doubt raced down to join the fight against Kalawarner. Right above him, the opposing Queen hovered in midair, paralyzed, bat-like wings outstretched to their limit, her lips curled with sadist satisfaction as a ball of energy had materialized over her splayed fingertips. Were he to stop and slice them down, he would lose valuable time and they would be surrounded in enemy territory. The only one standing in his way was the Bishop that they had been exchanging fire with, pressed against the bark of a tree, taking cover from Kalawarner’s spears.

In his flight, Rebellion gleamed hungrily and severed the hooded Bishop in half. The cut had been applied. The effects were yet to be seen the moment Quicksilver ended its influence over time. When that time came, the girl would topple in two ragged halves in a shower of blood.

Dante closed the distance quickly. Belial’s tumbledown castle loomed over the hill, a near exact copy of Lucifer’s fortress back at their own base. He could have infiltrated it and taken the fight straight to Diodora right then and there. However, there was no telling what to expect. There might have been traps laying around, waiting for unwary feet to stumble upon them. The opposing Knight and Queen would overwhelm Kalawarner and they would double back the moment they were done with her to help out their King. Not only that, but inside awaited at least one more Bishop, one Knight, two Rooks, an uncertain number of Pawns and the King himself.

At the foot of the hill before the castle, Dante came to a halt, set Issei firmly on his feet and ended Quicksilver. The explosions of battle behind them became alive with fury. Dante could easily hope his Devil Trigger to last for another thirty seconds before it absolutely ran out.

“ _Whoa, what was that? I mean, one of Diodora-kun’s Bishops has retired_ ,” Serafall’s voice boomed across the sky.

“Huh?” Issei looked around, perplexed, the moment he regained movement. “How’d you do that?”

“Do your thing!” Dante chided, snapping his fingers.

“Right, sorry! Promotion, Queen!” Issei yelled. The effect was instantaneous and evident from where Dante stood. A flicker of red flashed across Issei’s frame. He beamed at Dante. “Done!”

Without a second’s waste, Quicksilver was activated, stilling the wind and halting the thunderous sounds of battle. Issei stood frozen on the spot, the beaming smile still etched on his face. Dante grabbed the boy by the wrist and turned his back to Belial’s castle, racing toward the middle of the arena where Kalawarner faced off against the opposing Knight and Queen.

Just like with the Bishop he eliminated before, the Knight stood right within his sword’s range. The hooded girl’s heels dug into the dirt, in the process of dashing toward Kalawarner as she stood captured in time, her sword lowered to the ground, slicing the air.

Dante ran past her, Rebellion hissing clean across the Knight’s neck without any visible effect. The blade gleamed crimson, its thirst for blood partially quenched. The actual beheading would take place when Quicksilver ran out.

When he reached Kalawarner’s side, he saw the ball of magic suspended like a miniature sun in the air, having had erupted from the Queen’s fingertips and come to a halt. Dante placed Issei on the side, seized Kalawarner by the arm and pulled her out of the orb’s flight the instant his Devil Trigger sputtered out of adrenaline. The deadly sphere cannonballed on the ground, cracking the earth in splitting abrasions that spread out from the impact’s center.

“ _There, it happened again! I mean, one of Diodora-kun’s Knights has retired_.”

The Queen let out a gasp of shock when she saw her fellow Knight toppling over, her head rolling in jets of blood, staining the drab stalks of grass scarlet, and promptly disintegrating as the simulation registered her death.

In the meantime, the transmitter in their ears buzzed alive. From it came Akeno’s harried voice. “I need help over here. Five of the Pawns evaded my traps and got promoted and they’re all over me!”

“I’ll be there in a moment!” Kiba answered promptly on the other end.

“Raynare, provide backup!” Dante yelled, pressing a finger to his ear. “Koneko, don’t move from the base. I still need you there.”

“Understood,” came her response. Dante could hear reluctance exuding from it.

He dropped the transmitter and faced the Queen, hovering in the air. “Let’s take her out quick.”

“Dante-san, she’s not alone anymore!” Issei shouted, pointing to their left side. He was right.

The other Knight scuttled out of the underbrush from one of the several wooded areas. To their right came two other cowled figures, which Dante knew at once had to be the two Rooks.

“Guys, guys, you’re making this too easy,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk.

The sense of anticipated delight was obliterated nearly at once. “ _Dante-san’s Queen has retired._ ”

The transmitter buzzed in his ear again. “I need help.” It was Kiba, his voice low and strained. “Akeno… she’s been eliminated!”

“Kiba-senpai!” Koneko’s alarmed voice finally showed true emotion, true despair.

“Koneko, don’t move from there. That’s an order!” Dante insisted. “Dammit, Raynare, where are you?”

There was a gurgling noise on the other end. Kiba’s voice was barely recognizable as he snarled. “I’m taking you with me…!” The pained scream of a girl was heard. And then it was gone. A sense of emptiness settled.

“ _Dante-san’s Knight and one of the Diodora-kun’s Pawns have retired_.”

“Kiba-san! You can’t be defeated!” Issei yelled into his transmitter. “Kiba-san!” But there was no one to respond.

The opposing Queen, Knight and Rooks closed in on them, as though testing their mettle, probing their resolve, waiting for the moment to strike together. Dante’s sneer became dangerous, raising a defiant Rebellion toward the Queen.

Then it happened. The moment he dreaded most.

From the moment he had his King Piece inserted, it had proven a tedious and sometimes difficult task to maintain the Piece in place. For three days straight he had worn it, growing used to it and doing his best to keep it from coming off. It had not been easy. At first, he could keep it in place for an hour before it inevitably slid out. The merest distraction, the smallest interruption repeatedly thwarted his practice and only bolstered his resolve to conquer this obstacle. He then was able to keep it in place for several hours straight, although he knew the danger was present at all times of the day, a constant reminder of a tower continually being pushed along the edge of a cliff, tipping, angling, then stabilizing, and then tilting over the brink.

Such was the test he went through at that point. He pressed his hand against his chest, now gasping for air, concentrating on that point, taking in the Sisyphean task of pushing the tower back on its standing position. The smallest distraction, the tiniest twinge of pain to his body, and the Piece would slide off, meaning instant defeat.

The opposing Pieces took notice of his woes nearly at once. That was such an opportunity they were waiting for.

“Regroup back at the base. Get out of here! Run!” Dante sputtered in a rush of words. Kalawarner nodded, spinning on her heels and seizing Issei by the wrist to fly over the river of lava.

The Knight darted in, blade lowered to the ground. The Rooks lumbered onward, massive two-handed greatswords cleaving the earth like butter as they took off. The Queen produced a massive sphere of energy and hurled.

“Koneko, castling move, now!” Dante yelled.

The effect was instantaneous. There was a blinding flash of light. The clamors of battle ceased.

Oppressing silence reigned in the innards of Lucifer’s fortress.

 

* * *

 

 

He slumped on the slanted slab of stone and held his breath long and deep. For added reassurance, he kept his hand firmly pressed against his chest, precisely on the spot where Rias had inserted his King Piece.

Never had such a simple task in his life demanded from him such Herculean strength and willpower.

Gradually, the panting subsided and the concern waned. He could feel the Piece receding back to his adequate place, stabilizing, no longer tilting or threatening to topple over the edge, eliminating him from the Game and losing the match.

Moonlight streamed into the caved-in hole and onto the pile of debris that used to be the fortress’ ceiling. Dante had ample view of the terrain, of the hills rolling and extending far to the horizon, sitting in front of the breached parapets and the walls split in half. Anyone could walk in at any moment unhindered.

They did.

“So you’re the ones that took out Kiba and Akeno, aren’t you?” he asked, casually examining his fingernails.

The four Pawns-turned-Queens each clambered over the spilled stones of the wall and entered the bailey of the fortress.

“Understood,” they all said at the same time, nodding almost mechanically. Dante’s best guess was that Diodora had just green-lighted their intent. It was enough to answer his question.

“Good thing you’ve come,” he said, rising from the stone and dusting off his coat. Pandora thudded heavily on the floor, its demonic engraved face making the Pawns shudder. “Because I’ve got candy for you.”

In the blur of a second, the briefcase came alive with mechanisms and contraptions, twisting about, pleats of metal folding over each other, whirring and buzzing with energy, quickly transforming into a human-sized yawning chasm of a fat-barreled cannon crackling with raw energy. Manning it from behind, Dante rotated its maw toward the four dumbstruck girls, illuminating their stunned faces with the red energy that fed the weapon.

The blazing laser beam that erupted from it pulverized everything in its way. The four Pawns gave one last collective shriek before the intense heat engulfed them and broke them down to mere particles of ash, carried away by the howling wind. The beam incinerated a sizeable hole through the parapet, opening it up even further and causing its masonry to fall apart in sizzling embers. The only obstacle capable of stopping such destructive force was the earth itself. Its efforts to stop it showed in the form of a gigantic crater far off in the distance, trailing with heavy black smoke and uprooted trees around the area.

“ _Amazing! Sorry, I mean, four of Diodora-kun’s Pawns have retired_ ,” Serafall announced.

Pandora sprung back to its original form and Dante hauled it out of sight.

He pressed a finger to his ear, activating the transmitter. “Koneko, Issei, Kaley, come in.” After seconds of buzzing inactivity on the other end, he tried again. “You guys there? Talk to me.” He lowered his hand and took a sweeping glance around the somber halls of the fortress, its banners torn from the walls, its thick pillars erect in jagged halves, its breach in the parapet, lending view of the vast rolling hills that extended in all directions. His finger went back to his ear. “Raynare, where the hell are you? You better come out or I’m seriously considering a friendly fire option.”

“Leave me,” came her biting response, not from the transmitter in his ear, but a resounding echo from within the fortress’ hall.

Dante pressed his temples in irritation. “Have you just been lying there all this time, not doing anything?!” He strode over to her brooding curled-up form, resting against the stone wall. He nudged her on the feet with the tip of his boot. “Kiba and Akeno sacrificed themselves taking out Diodora’s Pawns, and all you’ve been doing here is sulk in silence?”

“How am I supposed to do anything in this deplorable state I’m in?” Raynare said, making a general gesture at her frame.

“You look pretty much the same to me.”

“Does this look right to you?” she asked, rising to her feet. Her black wings came out in an explosion of feathers, outstretched to their limit.

“What does?”

“This!” she insisted, fluttering her wings like a peacock, onyx feathers coming off.

Dante’s arched eyebrows only added fuel to her frustration.

“How much more obvious can I be than this?” she said, letting out a small groan of annoyance. She folded her wings in front of her and grimaced when she lightly held the leather, bat-like pinion with her fingertips, as though it were an outlandish and nauseating specimen. “Just what is this monstrosity? This defilement of the body? I don’t even know why I’m showing it to you. It’s painfully humiliating.”

“Well, half the Underworld probably already knows about it, since we’re being televised live,” Dante said, scratching his chin in mock thought.

Her face went blank. “Excuse me while I go die slowly in the corner.”

Dante clutched her wrist. “Can’t let you do that, sweetie. We still have a Game to win, and I told you, I’ll let Diodora do what he pleases to you if we lose,” he flashed her a smirk and leaned in to whisper. “And I know that kid ain’t right in the head.”

Raynare looked down, dejected. “You turned me into a monster,” her lips contorted with disgust. “You destroyed everything I had going for me: my rank, my reputation, my life…”

“Nice, you look even better when you’re mad,” Dante grinned. And then turned serious in the blink of an eye. “You butchered Asia’s life, too. Have you given any thought to that? And you still owe me an explanation as to who’s behind all of this.”

Her features softened. “And what am I supposed to do now?”

“Simple, we win this Game, and you beg for forgiveness, preferably on your knees,” he chuckled at her outraged expression. “Just kidding. Still, you seem to care a lot about your rank and reputation, and now that you’re given the chance to prove your worth among Devils, you decide to taint your name even further. From what little I know, only the strong thrive in this society. Only the fit survive. And so far, you have done the opposite. When I took you into my household, I gave you a second chance to start anew, with a clean slate. I thought it was pretty clear, but I guess I have to spell it out for you.” He raised a finger as he numbered his points. “You do not belong to the Grigori anymore.” Raynare looked down. He could see the truth cut deep into her. “You are not a Fallen Angel any longer. You may have been demoted, but this is your best shot to recover your rank and rise high once again. Embrace the new you and be content. Whether Angel, Devil, human or hybrid, everyone gets a chance to shine. So get out there, and let’s kick Diodora’s ass!”

“You sure make eloquent speeches,” Raynare smiled bitterly.

“Look at the bright side of things, you’re a Nephalem now, too, right?” Dante said, tilting his head.

“I don’t think that really constitutes as Nephalem,” Raynare said, tapping her chin in thought.

“Where’s a biology expert when you need one?” he jested.

“ _One of Diodora-kun’s Rooks has retired,_ ” Serafall announced, breaking their conversation.

“Seems they’re coping. Still, they’re taking too long,” Dante said, turning to the breach in the parapet. “Wouldn’t want them to retire yet.” He reached into his red coat, and gripping each by the bronze-bound hilts, he extracted Agni and Rudra. The heads in the pommels stared back at him with lifeless, empty sockets. He smacked the two together. “Hey, you guys in there?” Raynare stared at him narrow-eyed. Dante raised a finger at her. “Whatever it may look like, I’m not crazy.” As if to shoot down the notion, he smacked the pommels together again. “I know I told you not to talk, but hey, I’m asking you to right now.”

The sockets came alive with red glints for one, and blue for the other. The mouths carved into the pommels moved, producing low, rumbling speech. “What? What is it?”

“Why do you disturb our slumber?” the other one added.

“I hate to ask this, but I need a favor,” Dante went on.

“Have we not been of use to you? Have we failed to meet your expectations?” Agni asked.

“None of the sort. Wonderful work. I just gotta ask for help on this small matter.”

The spirits in the curved blades seemed to consider.

“Alright!” Rudra replied.

“On one condition,” Agni added. Dante saw it coming miles away. He knew what they’d ask for in return. In his opinion, it was a great way to kill two birds with one stone, perhaps three.

           

* * *

 

“Dante-san!” Issei screamed, looking back as Kalawarner carried him across the crawling molten rock, finally crossing into the dark side of the arena once again. The orb impacted where Dante had stood a mere second ago, a cloud of dust exploding into being. Out of the ashes, another completely different figure burst out after them. Her bat-like wings stretched out from end to end, her white hair whipping with the wind.

            “Koneko-chan!” Issei’s worried grimace turned to a grin. The little girl flew after them, crossing the fiery partition of the arena. “You’re alright?”

            “Yes,” she nodded, landing daintily at their side. She stood in combat stance, digging her heels in the grass, raising her gloved fists up to her face. “They’re coming.”

Moonlight now caressed their backs gently, driving out the burden that the overtaxing sunlight inflicted on them for being Devils. Issei distinguished the difference at once. Their senses augmented, and their reflexes enhanced, they stood a better chance. Such advantage was nullified when the Knight darted into their proximity, the Queen following right behind, flinging a cobalt sphere of magic at their feet. The two slower, albeit stronger Rooks left the daylight behind and joined their counterparts under the stars.

“Out of the way!” Kalawarner yelled, pulling Issei out of harm’s way.

Koneko dove to the side and away from the explosive projectile. It sundered the earth, piles of dirt blowing out and splattering on the grass.

“What do we do now?” Issei asked, staring at the menacing Queen.

“Dante-sama told us to regroup back at the base. Let’s go!” Kalawarner fired a spear. The Queen danced out of the way, her wings fluttering gracefully.

The Knight streaked silently in the dark. Like a shadow warrior, she aimed to waltz into the enemy’s weakness and pull back when they offered resistance. Koneko intercepted her on her way to strike Issei, deflecting the blade with her gloved hand and retaliating with a lethal punch that was easily dodged. The Knight riposted, slashing at her stomach, tearing at the dress. Blood seeped through the cloth. The white-haired girl’s sheer endurance kept her from flinching, merely brushing off the cut. Her strength and resistance flew off the charts. But the Knight was too swift for her.

She braced to receive another onslaught. The Knight vaulted over her at the last moment, ignoring her and taking off toward Issei and Kalawarner, who continued to dodge the Queen’s projectiles.

She faced forward again. At the last possible second she evaded the incoming downward chop of the two-handed greatsword that sunk in the earth, jumping aside and ramming her fist into the Rook’s face. The second Rook came charging at her, throwing a wide overarching swing that would’ve lopped off her head if she hadn’t allowed herself to fall on her butt. The first Rook came back in a plunging attack, sinking the greatsword hilt-deep into the dirt the moment Koneko rolled lithely out of the way.

_Boost!_

Promotion had played its part much better than he had expected.

Even though the Knight moved at an incredible speed, scurrying like a cat, darting in and retreating like a viper, sidestepping and dodging, thrusting her blade in and countering, Issei found he could almost match her speed. Not only had his speed increased, but his overall strength and endurance as well, thanks to the Rook traits that came in packaged with the Queen promotion. His senses and reflexes were also boosted, courtesy of the darkness shrouding their side of the arena.

Twice Critical sheathed his left arm in plates of crimson. The emerald jewel gleamed brightly as his gauntleted arm parried the Knight’s hissing blade, one time after another in a deathly, clanging dance where the slightest misstep would mean defeat.

Blade and Sacred Gear struck together in a shower sparks. Issei retreated in time as the Knight advanced on him, unrelenting, implacable, inexorable, fully intent on bringing him down along with Kiba and Akeno. He would avenge them.

The blade stopped inches away from his face. He shoved it back toward the owner and lurched forward in a vicious punch to the Knight’s face. The cowled figure leaned to the side, and danced out of range in a whirl of steel. Issei groaned with pain, covering the gash on his abdomen.

Kalawarner had taken the fight against the Queen to the air. Both reincarnated Devil and former Fallen Angel exchanged jets of power, beams flashing and zipping past each other by hairbreadths as they swirled out of the way, wings beating back against the wind and propelling them forward. Lethal projectiles of energy zoomed in the air, flashing in a dazzling spectacle of colors before detonating on the ground or tearing a tree apart, uprooting it from the spot with vicious force.

Producing a lance of light, its tapered blade at its end serrated with spikes for added brutality, Kalawarner closed the distance, charging into the Devil’s proximity, her lance raised like a jousting knight racing down along the tilt. The Queen responded with an energy-created weapon of her own, an elegant, slim shortsword composed of radiating blue magic.

Bat and crow lashed at each other, both resolute to tear the other to pieces. Talons and claws met in the form of lance and shortsword, deviating strikes, angling and sliding off each other to the side. Kalawarner propelled forward, repeatedly thrusting her spear in and quickly retracting it in time as the Devil dashed away and parried the tip, skating it off to the sides.

Koneko had to keep moving backward, constantly retroceding from the heavy hitters, leaning back, rolling out of the way and studying her opponents, measuring their weighty swings and waiting for the rare moment where she was allowed a strike of her own. The two Rooks closed the distance, and one after another, their massive downward swings smote the ground a fraction of a second after she somersaulted out of the way. In the time it took them to recover from their swings, she dug her heels in the grass and used her inhuman strength to slingshot herself back to them, slamming an iron fist into one of the Rook’s face. Koneko bent down and snatched the greatsword before she could react, dipping the sharp tip into the Rook’s heart.

The hood fell away. Her features were contorted in agony, her brow creased and her eyes dilated. A jet of blood spilled out of her mouth before the Game registered her passing and disintegrated her from the simulation. The stalks of grass beneath were stained with blood.

“ _One of Diodora-kun’s Rooks has retired,_ ” Serafall announced.

The surviving Rook stared with dismay. “No, sis!” Her features became vengeful. “You’ll pay for that!”

Koneko lifted the greatsword as easily as a girl would lift a stick, and pointed it at the Rook. And their swords performed the deadly dance, locked in fierce combat.

Despite his traits as Queen and enhanced endurance, Issei’s punches were now laden with weariness, his steps clumsy and unmeasured, his blocks faltering, not to mention that his brushes with death came more often than before.

The Knight vaulted onto him in a downward slash attack. Issei raised his gauntleted arm to block the incoming strike. His arm recoiled with painful vibrations and sparks shot off. The Knight ducked under his guard and whirled in and out of it, slashing open his stomach. Issei yelped, losing his footing and slamming his back on the dirt.

“Issei-senpai!” Koneko launched herself into the Knight with an all-encompassing swing. The Knight somersaulted out of the way. A drop of blood and torn cloth pointed out that it had been a close call for her.

Kalawarner broke away from her aerial fight with the Queen and landed heavily next to them, still glaring at the Devil, out of breath. She hurled the lance and the Queen lazily maneuvered out of the way. It was yet another sign of tiredness. Her aim had also deteriorated. Still facing the Queen, she lowered a hand down toward Issei, but before she could call forth Twilight Healing, several things happened at once.

The Queen cast an explosive orb of power. Koneko jumped in and took the blow directed at Issei. A cloud of dust shot up from the ground, enshrouding her in its murk. The Knight darted in under their guard and tore up a gash on Kalawarner’s side when she deviated the leveled sword with a hurriedly generated weapon. Completely open to the Rook, she took her chance to plunge her greatsword into a defenseless Issei. Koneko burst out of the kicked dust and punted Issei out of the way. The boy cried out with pain, rolling limply over the side, ribs broken, but temporarily safe from harm.

Kalawarner flung her wings, rocketing out of range and landing next to him.

“Go, I’ll hold them off!” Koneko said. Even in such a dire situation, all the emotion she showed was in the form of a concentrated frown.

The former Fallen Angel pulled Issei harshly to his feet, grasping his wrist while hastily brushing Twilight Healing over his most grievous wounds. The boy staggered to his feet and promptly stabilized.

“No, Koneko-chan!” Issei took a step forward, but Kalawarner reined him in, clutching his arm.

            “Go!” the white-haired girl spun around in a sweeping slash attack with the greatsword. The Knight ducked under it and the Rook arrested its momentum with her own blade.

            Kalawarner nodded and, dragging Issei after her, she made toward Lucifer’s fortress in quick, long strides that were stalled by Issei’s stubborn efforts to go back to aid Koneko. His gaze never left her petite figure making a defiant last stand.

            The three foes overwhelmed her with numbers, harried her open flanks with adamant efforts to bring her down, like a pack of hungry stray dogs hounding their prey. Her greatsword swung in great all-encompassing arcs. The Knight danced under and over her swings. The Rook met her espadon with alacrity and a desire to avenge her Rook sister. The Queen shot into the air, raining accurate flurries of electric bolts on her, careful not to hurt her fellow Pieces in the process.

            Koneko met their combined bouts with noble resistance and staunched their progress with her sacrifice. From afar, Issei caught a faint glimpse of the white-haired girl letting out a pained scream, followed by her immediate disintegration from the Game in a flash of flickering light.

            “ _Dante-san’s Rook has retired from the Game,_ ” Serafall proclaimed.

            The moment the deed was done, Issei cursed loudly and dug his heels in the grass, running for dear life toward Lucifer’s fortress. The three Pieces gave pursuit to them. The Knight overtook them in mere seconds, blockading the way ahead, the Queen assailed them with orbs of magic that forced them to separate from each other, and the Rook, due to her traits, was last to close the gap behind them, sporting a bloodied greatsword.

            Surrounded, yet separated from each other, Issei knew they had no chance of slipping out of this one. Then he saw them approaching over the top of the hill, lumbering giants, their footfalls causing the ground to shudder in miniature earthquakes, their claws cleaving the earth, their skin textured like rock, cerulean for one, and orange-red for the other one. Ridges of spikes protruded over their muscled arms. Clasped in their hands was a ribbed scimitar that seemed to match the wielder’s skin color, the pommels under the crossguard carved with the faces of demons. Most baffling of all, they were both headless.

            Issei wasn’t the only one taking cautious steps back. The five of them disregarded their opposing Pieces to confront what seemed to be a common foe.

            The golems came to a halt before the five Devils. A hesitant, though rumbling voice like grating rock spoke up. “Eh, which one of you is Kaley?”

            The other one piped up, glancing at his companion. “Brother, what was the other one called? We were to bring two of them.”

            “Missy?”

            “No, no, methinks Easy is what we’re looking for.”

            “EZ?”

            “No, Essay, methinks.”

            “Cece, I’m certain.”

            At that point, even Kalawarner exchanged exasperated looks with the opposing Queen.

            Issei raised a timid hand in the air. “Hmm, you mean Issei?”

            “E-say?” the crimson golem turned to regard him. Issei nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed the pommel under the sword opening its mouth to speak. “That sounds more fitting.”

            “You’re right, brother,” the cerulean golem turned to the congregated Devils. “Kaley, E-say, you must come with us.”

            “See, we’d love to, but we’re pinned down here, just a little,” Kalawarner spat in her most sardonic tone of voice.

            Suddenly, the scimitars glowed with power. Flames coiled around the blade of the crimson golem. The azure scimitar powered up, as if absorbing power from the wind itself, feeding its core with the raw energy of nature and creating small-scale gales around it.

            “Begin extraction!” the two golems rumbled before hurtling into the air in single powerful leapfrog. Their terrible scimitars wrought chaos and destruction all around.

 

* * *

 

 

Dante and Raynare stood side by side at the top of the hill, just outside of Lucifer’s fortress, overlooking their safe return to the base.

            Similarly, Issei and Kalawarner walked shoulder to shoulder, escorted by the two headless golems after they had laid waste to Diodora’s Pieces.

Agni and Rudra, they had let their opponents know who their tormentors were before they promptly terminated them. Agni, the Fire God, had summoned pillars of snaking, coiling flames and sent them spiraling into his enemies. Rudra, the Storm God, had slashed the air with his curved blade and propelled bouts of cutting gales that tore apart their defenses. Together, as the Firestorm, they had ravaged the terrain, leveled the hills with severing wind and scorched the surroundings with spouts of ephemeral fire that clung to their victims’ skins and charred them to the bone.

When they reached the foot of the hill, Issei broke away from his ushers and ran up the grassy slope toward Dante.

“Good to see you in one piece,” he said smirking when the boy reached him. “No pun intended.”

Issei voiced what he felt was the most appropriate thing in his mind. He threw a gesture back at Agni and Rudra. “What the _hell_ are those things?!” he said in one major outburst.

Dante shrugged his shoulders. “ _Your_ saviors,” he pointed at him, and then stuck out a thumb toward himself. “ _My_ battery cells. Putting it roughly. Hard to explain. You’ll see.”

Issei tilted his head, confused.

The events that transpired next answered his question partly. Agni spoke up.

“We have brought you Kaley and E-say. We have fulfilled our task.”

Raynare glanced at him narrow-eyed. “Kaley?”

Rudra stood still like a statue next to his brother. “You must now fulfill yours. Face us in combat once more and prove time has not taken the better of you.”

“Well, well, someone’s eager,” Dante teased.

Issei furrowed his brow. “Dante-san, what’s going on?” He could feel the tension rising. He saw the two headless golems taking combat stances as though about to leap on him, readying their scimitars.

“And right on cue. Perfect timing guys, you’ve really outdone yourselves,” Dante said with a sarcasm-heavy undertone.

Issei had to look around to know what he meant. His heart jolted against his chest when he saw them approaching, hand in hand, King and Bishop. He had to shake his head to make sure he was awake, rub his eyes to verify that his sight didn’t deceive him. The first figure had dark green hair, devious yellow eyes, a sly smile, and was draped in a fur-collared robe and a white rippling cloak. The second stood crestfallen at his side. The cowl veiled her now anguished gentle features, masked her glazed over sight with its shade, hooded her tousled blonde hair.

He hadn’t realized he had been earnestly anticipating this moment. There was a tone of raving hunger to his voice. “Diodora!” Twice Critical encased his arm with a gleam of green flashing from its back. “Asia, stay away from him!”

“No point in hiding anymore, right, Sparda?” the King in question smiled. “After all, we’re the only ones left.”

“Just give me a moment. I’ll get right back to whooping your ass,” Dante said, facing Agni and Rudra. Rebellion slid soundlessly out of his coat. “Kaley, Raynare, assist Issei. Don’t hurt him too much. I want a piece of him, too. No pun intended.”

Raynare looked disappointed. “You don’t tell an eagle to spare its prey.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “You know what? You can eviscerate him for all I care. Give the audience a show to remember you by.” Rebellion’s tip gleamed, reflecting off the cumbersome sunlight that had just replaced the soothing moonlight and scattered away the darkness of the night.

“Yes, Dante-sama!” both Raynare and Kalawarner called out. They blinked and looked at each other, then frowned as though they were old enemies meeting face to face again.

“A Pawn and two Bishops? You wound me, Sparda,” Diodora said. Although Dante wasn’t listening anymore. The Devil Hunter just then exchanged his first blows with Agni and Rudra. “Surely you don’t think that low of myself?”

It was a sight to behold. Rebellion flashed here and there in a whirl of blurry movement. Agni and Rudra sought to overwhelm Dante, attacking at the same time from two different directions. The Devil Hunter hopped over their blows and rolled to the side, raining lead on them as he came back up to his feet, Ebony and Ivory recoiling with each exploding bang. He intermittently switched firearms with Rebellion, parrying the cruel scimitars as the wielders leapt back onto him.

Raynare snapped Issei back to the spur of the moment. “I’ll show you the fury of the Grigori!” she snarled. The spear of light was lazily deflected to the side.

“How dare you look me in the eye, Fallen scum,” Diodora’s face contorted with madness. “You know, I was going to kill you, Raynare, if nothing went amiss. Let’s just say, too much went amiss. I’m here to rectify my mistake.”

“Then you give me more reason to savor your entrails when I gut you open,” she shot back, a sadistic smile spreading over her face. Her words softened, now directed at the priestess. Issei stared at the former Fallen Angel with wide eyes, incredulous. “Asia, forgive me for turning your life to shit. We betrayed your trust. There’s no greater sin we could’ve committed against you.”

Diodora shook with laughter. “There’s some irony for you, Fallen. Your intentions may be truly noble, but you’re already too late. Asia’s not coming back from that,” his deadly grin stretched to inhuman limits. “ _I made sure of that_.” His hand brushed over her back and down to her buttocks with disgusting delight. She didn’t even flinch. Her face retained a numb, deadpan expression.

Issei wasn’t the only one to react. Raynare and Kalawarner took an abrupt step forward, weapons of light materializing in their clenched fists. Issei felt the sting of tears in his eyes as he came to an understanding. Like a dam breaking, wrath washed unbridled over his entire frame. His shoulders shook with fury. His teeth threatened to shatter when they gritted. His nails dug into his skin and blood stained his palm. Blood boiling and chest heaving, he let out a scream of sheer rage that would’ve scared away any other bully.

Black, bat-like pinions of darkness spread out to either side of him. He felt the power within him grow exponentially, a new sudden surge of innate energy emanating from within. He had just unlocked it, and was ready to kill with it. Twice Critical transformed. Crimson, dragon claws elongated to cover the rest of his hand. The jewel shone at its brightest yet, flashing roiling waves of blinding emerald light. _Explosion!_

Raynare and Kalawarner stared at him, jaws dropped to the floor. “Azazel-sama had been right all along. He knew a Longinus-class Sacred Gear would come out of this boy!”

“Amazing!” Diodora exclaimed, his ravenous gaze roaming over the Sacred Gear. “Boosted Gear, the Red Dragon Emperor! It’s a puzzle why a pathetic excuse of a being was chosen to wield it.”

His blazing eyes showed no mercy. His ears listened to no reason. “DIODORA!!”

_Boost! Boost! Boost! Boost! Boost! Boost!_

His wings carried him faster than his feet would have. Issei zoomed in the air and within a second, his gauntleted fist rammed into Diodora’s face, slamming the Devil’s back on the dirt with a painful thump. He sat upright with a bloodied lip, his expression mad and wild. Issei retreated, having discharged all of his power concentrated into a single punch. His energy waned, his shoulders slouched, his fists dropped to his side, and his knees buckled under his weight. Power exhausted, he felt helpless as he watched the other ones around him fall.

A gust of wind slapped his face as two pairs of black wings beat past his side. Raynare and Kalawarner descended on Diodora, spears set to skewer. The Devil whipped out hands and jade green magic barriers interposed between him and the lethal, serrated blades of their lances, shattering them upon impact. The crest inscribed on the barrier glowed a pulsating light, and from it, a beam of searing light erupted, transfixing Raynare from end to end.

“Raynare-sama!” Kalawarner cried out.

The Fallen Angel thudded on the grass, spread-eagled, her twisted wings bent at odd angles and broken upon impact. Her skin had scorched off, melting the organs inside. Trails of smoke wafted into the air.

Kalawarner knelt down next to her former leader and immediately called upon Twilight Healing to do her bidding.

“You know that Twilight Healing belongs to Asia, right?” Diodora sneered. He turned to the priestess in question. “Wouldn’t you agree, Asia?” He snapped his fingers. “Take it back from her. Wreak vengeance upon your captors.”

Issei watched Asia longingly. The thought that he might never save her after all broke him from the inside. The blonde girl’s gaze drifted over to Kalawarner healing Raynare on the ground. The priestess raised a frail hand toward them. Issei wanted to scream when he realized what she was doing, but the words choked on their way out, censored by weakness, stifled by disbelief.

A jade beam of light spewed out from her fingertips. The poisonous light skewered Kalawarner in the heart, erupting from behind her back, rendering Twilight Healing completely useless in the process. She gave one final gasp of incredulity before being eliminated from the Game in a flash of quivering light.

Diodora looked down on Raynare with a grimace of disgust. His lips curled dangerously into a leer. “I have a special welcome gift for when you join my peerage.”

Her final words of defiance came out in a raspy croak. “Go shove a hot steel rod up your-” Diodora ended her with another ray, spearing it through her heart. Raynare was gone within a second.

“ _Dante-san’s two Bishops have retired_.”

Dante’s fight in the background against Agni and Rudra were mere white noises in an abyss of despair. There was nothing else for him to do but wait for his inevitable end. He glanced weakly over his shoulder. He caught Rudra bellowing with pain just in time as his body fell into a genuflect position and began to fade, corporeal form becoming ethereal, his blue curved blade sunk into the dirt.

It wasn’t long before Agni fell as well. The headless golem fought bravely, taking up his brother’s scimitar and wielding both in an impressive spectacle of flames and gales. Dante streaked under his whirlwind of elemental slashes and plunged Rebellion deep into his stomach. The twin curved blades rotated once in the air before sinking on the earth.

The Devil Hunter withdrew them and smacked the pommels together. “Same terms as before. No talking.” He looked unfazed by Raynare and Kalawarner’s defeat when he reached a kneeling Issei at his side. “Seems I’m missing out on all the fun.”

Issei stumbled to his feet, nearly losing balance again. “Asia…” he said softly.

“Impressive skills, Sparda,” Diodora said, his lips stretching into that friendly smile that Dante found so suspicious.

But the Devil Hunter wasn’t listening anymore. He watched intently in oppressing silence as Issei shuffled his way toward Asia. Diodora watched, too, amused. Issei reached the priestess and took her soft, unblemished hand in his.

“Asia, we’ve come for you…” he said weakly, barely able to support his weight any longer. “We can go home now…” Her gaze was blank, fixed in the distance. When called, she responded in a scarcely audible voice. Her anguished eyes found his. “Right, Asia?”

“Issei… san.”

Diodora laughed shrilly, mocking his attempts at reconnecting. “I’m most likely going to lose this Game. Tell me, Sparda, how do you like me to return you my used goods?”

Dante tilted his head to the side. Rebellion quivered at his side with contained fury.

Issei went on. “It’s time for us to go home, Asia…”

Diodora snapped his fingers. “Kill him.”

Issei glanced at the Devil and chuckled. “Asia’s not like that. She will never listen to you-” A sudden stab of pain pierced through his abdomen, searing, blistering heat flaring up his body with unimaginable agony that spread out like wildfire, streams of poison dispersing in his veins. He looked at Asia, into her brittle, strained eyes and saw misery embodied in them. “Asia…” was his last word before the pain ceased and the Game registered his demise.

 

* * *

 

 

“Issei… san…” the priestess mumbled numbly as the figure that was Issei dissolved into motes of ebbing light.

            “ _Dante-san’s only Pawn has retired_ ,” Serafall announced and silence fell once again.

            Dante’s smirk had long since vanished from his face. He looked at Asia with a mix of immense pity and gloom. Rebellion shuddered along its length, his clenched fist exerting massive pressure on the black, cadaveric hilt.

            His mouth felt dry, his lips parched. “Diodora… what have you done to her?”

            “I had my way with her. You can have her back now,” the leer was etched across his face.

            His chest expanded and contracted in heavy breaths filled with rage that he fought hard to contain. Dante threw his head back and covered his eyes as a fit of maniacal laughter assailed him.

            “You don’t mean… you don’t mean what I think y-you mean… right?” he said in between breaths. His eye shone with cruel ruthlessness. “Get on your knees and pray it is not…”

            “Many, many more will come after her. They will all see hope and I will snatch it away from them at the last moment. I will break their minds, ravage their bodies, and when they see a light of hope approaching, I will crush it!”

            His fight against Agni and Rudra had served him well. Adrenaline electrified his every muscle and activated his Devil Trigger nodes for a full-blown, unstoppable transformation come from the darkest depths of Hell. No, there was more than that. The power gushed rampant throughout his frame.

            Rebellion dropped to the ground with a thud. His voice had become a croaky, chilling rasp that juddered the Devil to his very bones. Dante towered over Diodora as his bones reshaped and enlarged. “Do you see hope?” Chitinous plates encased his shoulders. Pure demonic, slit eyes shone out from behind the mask, molded from darkness itself. “Can you see it, approaching?” Rock-like slabs, streaked with fiery-red veins, they swathed him from head to toes in the armor of an Archdemon. The tip of his boots burst open as they gave way to the growing talons. His fingers twitched, burgeoning into draconic claws. Manifesting as wisps of darkness, two pairs of beetle-like wings sprouted from his back to cast a shadow upon the shrinking figure that was Diodora. “I’ll take it from you.”

            The Devil’s yellow eyes widened with sheer, undiluted dread. Before he could turn tail, or resign from the Game, the Archdemon seized Diodora and lifted him over his head. His fingernails dug into his stomach and pulled, tore him apart in two ragged halves, bringing forth a shower of gore. With a finalizing touch, Dante crushed the upper torso in his palm and slammed the pulverized remains on the dirt with a wet slap.

            There was no sense of triumph, no remnants of glee and no desire to celebrate. The job was done at last. Diodora’s remains vanished in a flicker of light.

            “ _Checkmate… Dante-san wins the Game_ ,” Serafall’s voice was choked with emotion. No longer were there any hints of wistful admiration, only stifled shock.

            Dante looked down, and standing at that height, Asia looked like a mere toddler, her eyes open with innocent wonder. He reached down a gentle, bloodied claw and, after a second’s hesitation she grabbed it.

            A flash of light blinded his eyes, and the simulation was over.

 

* * *

 

The flash had burned the image into the back of his eyes. When his sight was returned to him, it wasn’t to find Issei and the others gathered for celebration. Much less than that, he didn’t find himself standing in Rias’ Occult Research Club room, or anywhere he had ever been to for that matter. The howling abyss greeted him. No floor, walls or ceiling, he stood upon a ubiquitous darkness that permeated the world.

            From the darkness, a figure approached, adrift in the murk. Angelic features covered its frame. Colossal, white eagle wings extended far to either side of the statue, and a silver toga draped his body.

            A deep rumble of laughter echoed from the murk. “Dante…”

            He shook his head. It wasn’t possible. Not now, not ever.

            “Son of Sparda, time has been kind to you.” It laughed again, cruel mirth sending chills down his spine. “Not any longer. The time is nigh for when I return. And when I do, I SHALL CONSUME IT ALL!”

            He awoke to see Rias and Issei’s worn smiling faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold the mighty Majin form!


	6. The Phoenix Cries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new rival with a foggy past appears!  
> He couldn't possibly be...

# The Phoenix Cries

When Dante had come around to consciousness at the end of the Rating Game two days ago, he had stood up, shot down all signs of concern from Rias and her Pieces, snatched the Twilight Healing rings from Kalawarner, and given them to Issei.

“Do what you know is right,” he had said, before storming out of the Occult Research Club room, and leaving to find some place to brood in silence.

Issei’s gaze became rooted to the silver rings resting on his palms. They looked so small, so fragile, and so defenseless. How had something so tiny caused so much mayhem? The ordeal was over at last. Asia was back with them. And yet, the whole affair reeked of defeat. At least, the girl had already made a friend.

For all her aloofness and icy personality, Koneko had not wasted a second to approach Asia to try to make her smile, to lend her a shoulder for the former priestess to cry and lean on.

Except she didn’t cry. Not a single tear did she ever shed. Her vacant expression bore down on Issei harder than a face full of sorrow would have. If only he had been stronger, he might have been able to defeat Raynare. If only he had tried harder, he might have been able to hinder Diodora until Dante or Rias arrived to his aid.

He felt a hand being placed on his shoulder. It was Rias. She wore a weary, but otherwise hopeful smile. A single nod from her head prompted him to uproot himself from the spot and approach the two girls sitting at the black, leather couch.

He knelt before the blonde. The words threatened to choke him on their way out. “Asia… how are you feeling?” He grabbed her hand and tugged it gently toward him. He deposited the two rings on her palm, and covered her hand protectively with both of his own. “These are yours, remember?”

Asia seemed to take notice of his presence. Koneko’s reserved and cold personality was a natural part of her being. Asia’s, on the other hand, had been tampered with, damaged and remolded by trauma. “Issei-san?” She frowned ever so slightly. “Are you okay?”

Issei stifled a sob. “Don’t you worry about me, Asia. It’s you whom I care about.”

“But… but…” Puzzlement glinted out of her eyes. “But… I killed you… didn’t I?”

Issei let out a small, grim chuckle. “No, you didn’t. Whatever you did, it was never your fault. You’re back with us, and that’s all that matters. We are all your big family now.” He looked around at his fellow Pieces for support. They all weighed in in earnest.

It surprised him to see Koneko smiling thinly at him. “You’re a good person, Issei-senpai.”

Rias knelt down at his side, and gazed at the former priestess with genuine compassion and empathy. “From now on I will be your big sister, Rias. And I will always protect you. My home is your home. You will always find shelter and warmth under our roof.”

Akeno’s hands slid over Asia’s shoulders from behind, and they gently massaged her neck and collarbone. “We’re all here for you, for anything you may need.”

“Yes, you can always count on us,” Kiba said. He turned to Issei and held out his balled fist toward him. “You fought bravely, and for a great cause. You have earned my respect.”

Issei bumped his fist with his own. “Fighting for a friend’s sake will always be a cause worth fighting for. Maybe even worth dying for. I couldn’t have done this without you, guys. Thank you.”

“Well, we all are family now,” Rias said. “Don’t ever hesitate to ask for help.”

Issei nodded, and was about to reply with heartfelt gratitude when he spotted Kalawarner, inching her way toward the gathered group in a sheepish manner. The former Fallen Angel fought an inner struggle that could easily be construed as wanting to add her voice to Asia’s recuperation, but at the same time, the uncertainty saturating her frame became obvious to his eyes. He could relate. Seeking acceptance from a group was only natural and very much engrained in people’s brains. Despite prior hostilities, fighting alongside each other on the battlefield heralded the forging of a link, the making of a bond.

That, and boobs.

“I wouldn’t have lasted anywhere near as much as I did without you, too,” Issei said, offering the former Fallen Angel a friendly smile.

Kalawarner looked down. Shame was written all over her stern, but beautiful features.

“That’s true,” Rias said suddenly. Issei could tell his King was making a huge effort in saying the words. “You helped Dante-san when he was struck. I probably would’ve lost my peerage at that point if not for you… thank you.”

The former Fallen Angel nodded slightly in acknowledgement, as though still too embarrassed to come any closer.

“Can I call you Kaley, too?” Issei asked.

Her lips twitched dangerously. “No… you may not,” she ground out. That seemed to do the trick. Kalawarner stepped forward, and Rias made space for her to approach Asia. “This is not something I’m very good at,” she said, letting out a grim, mirthless chuckle. She took hold of Asia’s hand. “You came to us for help when you needed it most, and we betrayed your trust. If there were a way to keep that from happening, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Please, forgive us.”

“It’s not you who needs to be forgiven,” Raynare suddenly spoke up. She stamped her way toward Asia, and somehow, she didn’t look threatening. Rias stepped in her way, arms crossed over her chest.

“Out of my way,” Raynare snarled.

“You’re the one who caused this in the first place.” The venom in Rias’ voice did not disturb Raynare in the least this time around. “You refused to help out Dante-san for the majority of the Rating Game, and Yuuto and Akeno were eliminated when you could’ve come to their aid. You should be grateful to Dante-san, because if not for him, I would’ve ended you a long time ago.”

“I helped him win-” Raynare began, but was interrupted.

“Minimally, and only at the very end of the Game.”

“And I fought to the death, for _her_ ,” Raynare threw a gesture toward Asia.

“It was a simulation. I’d love to see you do the same in a real situation of life and death,” Rias said, scowling.

“Well, excuuuse me, princess. I’ll be sure to give you a call when that happens. In the meantime, shut up and let me talk,” Raynare bit out. She ignored Rias’ stunned expression, and replaced Kalawarner on the spot where she was kneeling. “I know there exist no such words in any tongue to mend what I’ve done to you, or to deserve your forgiveness.” Asia’s eyes focused on hers. “Asia, you were like a little sister to me. I was a bad big sister to you. I know that.” Her gaze darkened. “I will do anything to make it up to you.” Her fists clenched tightly. She smacked the floor. “Curse him! Diodora, if I ever see that little bitch again, I will rip out his entrails. And this time, it’ll be for real.” She scrunched up her eyes. “Damn it… it was all my fault…”

Issei was surprised to see Asia move for the first time. The former priestess reached out to Raynare, and dabbed away at the tears beginning to roll down the Fallen’s cheeks.

“You don’t have to cry, Raynare-sama,” Asia said softly. “I will be alright.”

“If you truly want to make it up to her, then the first thing you can start by doing is telling Dante who ordered you to act against both Issei and Asia,” Rias said, brow still creased with mistrust.

Raynare stood up. She bit her lip before responding. “Azazel-sama asked us to keep an eye on them… for safety measures.”

“And yet…”

Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her fist. “It was Kokabiel, though, the one who commanded us to eliminate him,” she nodded toward Issei. “And forcibly remove Twilight Healing from her.”

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, pizza didn’t taste quite as good here.

Dante finished up his strawberry sundae, left the money on the counter, and walked out of the frozen yoghurt store. Neither pizza nor his favorite sundae helped alleviate the sense of foreboding that had settled in his mind. An inner battle between reason and emotions was being fought inside of him. The vision of Mundus had left rattled him to the bones, and added to that, was the sense of defeat that followed him everywhere he went. A day devoted to sorting out his thoughts by himself would clear out the cloud of doubt, and lift his spirits. It had worked, to some extent. A solitary walk under the stars toward the Academy should work wonders.

Except for the fact that he wasn’t alone anymore. He stopped cold next to an alley’s entrance, hands stuffed in his coat’s pockets.

“This late, shouldn’t you be in bed by now, kid?”

The slender, dark silver-haired boy let his presence be known by sliding out of the shadows. The chain over his burgundy jeans clinked ever so slightly with each graceful motion. He wore a V-necked shirt and a high-collared, black, leather jacket over it.

“So the rumors spoke the truth, after all. Yours is a hard aura to miss,” the boy said. “It either scares off the game,” his smile grew, “or it attracts the bigger predators.”

“You’ve been tailing me for a while. You know, I’d give you my autograph, but I don’t like my fans raving after me.” Dante tilted his head to the side. “Yours is no small aura, either. Did I accidentally step in your territory, or something?”

“Names’s Vali,” the boy said. “We come in friendly terms, for now.”

Dante remained unfazed as the second figure revealed herself from under the shadows. Unlike with Vali, he hadn’t actually detected her aura. A Nekomata. He had read about them, but never actually seen one in the flesh. Unlike her companion, she moved almost soundlessly, much like a cat treading on a carpet. The woman, voluptuous in shape, dressed in a black kimono, and true to her nature, she stalked along the boy in cat-like gait. Onyx hair framed her sly, yellow slit-pupil eyes, and jet-black cat ears flicked toward the source of the slightest noise.

“Setting new standards for recruits, are you?” she purred, sending Dante what could be interpreted as an immodest glance.

“I don’t think he’d be interested in joining us,” Vali replied, his gaze surveying Dante. “I mean, what are we to him?”

“I watched you collaborate with Shirone during the Rating Game,” the Nekomata said, turning her attention to Dante, whose eyebrows were raised in confusion. “That castling move left me impressed, nya.” Much to Dante’s chagrin, that sounded a lot like a cat’s meow. “I’m glad my little sister is well and growing stronger.”

“You mean Koneko?” Dante asked.

The Nekomata wrinkled her nose. “Of course, that’s what they call her nowadays. But anyhow, look at you. A Nephalem.” The woman batted her eyes at Dante. Suddenly he had a better view of her cleavage. “So dashing, so strong, and so powerful. It’s right what my dying species needs-”

“That’s enough, Kuroka,” Vali cut in. “It’s not what we came here to do.”

“Sorry, miss, but I’m more of a dog person myself,” Dante replied. He frowned. “Wait, that sounded wrong.”

Vali raised his hands. “Anyway, back on topic.” He grunted. “This was supposed to be a short meeting. Look, you made some threats against the members of the Grigori.”

Dante scratched his chin. “The Grigori? Oh… right.” In hindsight it seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Let’s just say I’m close to them-”

“Were you involved in the recent Fallen Angel attacks on humans?” Dante asked, his eyes squinting dangerously.

Vali returned him the glare. “No, I wasn’t. And whatever you might believe, Azazel is innocent as well. When you threatened the Grigori, and threatened to make them… roasted chicken, I believe, do you know what they did?” Vali took Dante’s silence as cue to proceed. “They laughed, and wondered what a power-crazy Nephalem was doing here. After watching the replays of your Rating Game, however, do you know how they reacted? Many of the members were genuinely worried about the threat you made, and many voiced their concern on the bases for why you did it. But Azazel and I know better. There’s someone in the Grigori planning something big, and if I had to start pointing fingers, Kokabiel comes off as a huge candidate. And that’s just the icing on the cake. Something much bigger and dangerous approaches.”

Dante had a funny feeling that he knew the answer. He was about to say _Mundus_ , when Vali said something completely different.

“The Old Satan Faction.” He sighed, and regarded his companion with a gesture. “Kuroka and others have been gathering intelligence on their moves, but we don’t know much at the moment. There’s not much we can tell you, either. We could compromise our position, delicate as is. Strong as you are, we need more people like you to join us and make a stand against the descendants of the four original Satans.” His cold smile was back on his lips. He turned his back to Dante, facing the dark alley. “If we ever have to meet again, I’m afraid it will not bode well for the world.”

“Send my little sis my regards, nya,” Kuroka threw him a quick, playful wave of her hand, and swaggered off after the silver-haired boy, disappearing into the darkness.

* * *

 

 

Dante wasn’t sure whether he was being interrogated or interviewed.

“I suppose there’s, indeed, always a first for everything,” Sirzechs said. Despite the warm smile playing over his lips, Dante could tell the uneasiness that had crept into the Great Satan’s tone ever since he eviscerated Diodora during the Rating Game. Same thing applied to the other two Devil Kings. Ajuka Beelzebub, who studied him clinically, and Serafall Leviathan, who, apparently, had a hard time trying not to look overly interested in his figure. “But what you summoned back there in the Game, that is something that hasn’t been seen since the goriest times of the Great War, when the Great-King Bael and Archdemon Belial themselves led their cohorts to battle against Heaven.” He sighed resignedly. “Not two days since the Game ended, and you have already drawn lots of attention from the Underworld media. It’s safe to assume that this Game might just transcend the annals of our history.”

“You are full of surprises, Dante-san,” Serafall said from across the round table, eyes twinkling with admiration. “You gave us quite the shock. That much power would make most Devils envious of you.” She leaned forward, palms pressed on her cheeks. “How would you like to be my Knight?”

Ajuka pinched the bridge of his nose. “Will you stop that?” He turned his icy gaze to Dante. “She does have a point, though. When you faced off against my brother, no one would’ve ever predicted such a transformation, such a colossal influx of power in just a matter of seconds. It’s popular knowledge that Nephalem beings tend to be very powerful. However, what you demonstrated was on a completely different level. The fight turned from being a clash of Kings into a game of cat and mouse in less than a second. My brother and I were never very close, but, if I’m sincere, the sight and everything that transpired still made me shudder.”

Dante sat stretched out on the tall, cushioned chair, his legs on the table, and his arms crossed over his chest. He considered all three viewpoints thoroughly. He nodded once and delivered an equally eloquent response.

“Well, he did piss me off.”

“That’s reasonable.” Sirzechs inclined his head. “I don’t claim to fully understand your motives, but I think a more… tame approach would’ve been more appropriate.”

Dante found the irony amusing. “Never thought I’d see the day when a Devil would lecture me on violence,” he said.

“The boy will be alright,” Sirzechs said. Dante caught a faint glint of satisfaction in the Devil King’s eyes. “Physically, at least.”

“I want to apologize on my brother’s behalf. We had no notion of how he mistreated his peerage members,” Ajuka said. “I hope he’ll take it as a life lesson from now on.” He steepled his fingers. “Still, it is not the _why_ we’re interested in, but the _what_.”

“As humans tend to say, _what_ the hell was that?” Sirzechs pressed on. “Such a primordial being has not been sighted for centuries.”

“That was me,” Dante replied curtly.

“Don’t be like that, Dante-san, we won’t judge you,” Serafall quipped, her long, jet-black twin tails dangling to the side as she tilted her head.

He pondered for a second. In his opinion, there were much more pressing matters to discuss. His recent vision of the Prince of Darkness threatening to come back to life had effectively killed his nonchalant attitude and flamboyant style for the time being. Raynare and Kalawarner had commented on it, and Rias had offered her concern, but Dante had waved them off. It was uncertainty what kept him from voicing his thoughts, not wanting to relay false information in case it wasn’t true. And it was also uncertainty what kept him from brushing it off. The weight of it burdened his very soul. He decided to simply answer their questions, and let them in on the whole Mundus affair when he received a clearer sign other than a questionable dream.

“That was my Devil Trigger.” He met their blank faces, and heaved a sigh. “I can temporarily take on my true demon form. What you saw, though, was a much stronger version of what I’m used to. I had only used that form once before. This was my second time.” He grinned. “It’s actually a nice stress reliever.”

“For a Nephalem, you don’t use your Angel form a lot, do you?” Sirzechs asked.

He shrugged. “It’s almost as though I didn’t have one.”

“And what about your weapons?” Serafall asked, nodding toward his red coat. “You showed off quite a few. Are they your Sacred Gears?”

“Devil Arms.” He smirked. “It’s a nice twist on your Evil Piece system. Whereas you bind Devils for servitude as metaphorical chess pieces, I subdue them and take ownership of their soul manifestations, typically in the form of a weapon. Don’t ask me why they always turn into weapons.”

Ajuka’s eyes brightened with interest. He leaned in closer. “For research purposes only, would you mind giving me a detailed step-by-step guide into making our own Devil Arms?”

“Ajuka-chan, you don’t mean to trap your fellow Devils in such crammed, tiny spaces, do you?” Serafall chided him.

The young man ignored her and pressed on. “Have you tried making _Angel_ Arms? We could start capturing strays, and adding them to our shelves, maybe even use them against their fellow Angels in skirmishes and let them know it was friendly fire.”

“That’s sick and repulsive,” Serafall scowled, crossing her arms.

Without generalizing too much, Dante could tell mental instability ran deep in the Astaroth family.

“And just like Sacred Gears, all of these, Devil Trigger and Devil Arms, are perfectly acceptable for use in Rating Games,” Sirzechs said as though he were voicing his thoughts aloud. “That should bode well for Rias.”

Dante frowned. Whatever that was supposed to mean…

 

 

* * *

 

It meant he was hired again, this time to be Rias’ temporary Knight in her upcoming Rating Game against a certain Riser Phenex.

“Funny how things change,” Dante was saying in faked disapproval, sprawled on the couch, feet over the coffee table. “Because if I remember correctly, a certain someone didn’t want me to come help a certain boy because I had caused enough trouble. Certain someone had wanted him to get rid of my business card.” He made a gesture with his fingers, as though connecting dots. “And then after that-”

“Yes, I get it, I’m an opportunist,” Rias threw her hands up in the air. “Newsflash, I’m a Devil!” The pleading tone was there, creeping back into her voice. “So could you, _please_ , help me? It’s very important to me, and them.” She made a sweeping motion toward the gathered Pieces around them.

“I don’t hear the magic words,” Dante said, cupping his ear.

Rias’ response was to hold up her palm. The crimson sigil of Gremory flashed briefly in her hand before a black, leather-bound suitcase materialized on her palm. The Devil placed it on the table in front of Dante, unlocked the clasps in a muffled click, and revealed its interiors.

Jaw dropped to the floor, the Devil Hunter sat up, and stared in stupor at the gleaming contents: rows upon rows of green paper neatly stacked on one another, fitted in slots of plush, scarlet velvet.

Dante managed to regain his voice. “You know that phrase not to make a pact with the Devil? I think I’ll be throwing that out of my rulebook.” He raised a finger. “Right! Which reminds me…” He swiveled toward Issei at his side, and thrust his open palm at him. “Pay up.”

Issei had been staring at the enormous amount of money in the briefcase with something akin to yearning when Dante snapped him back to reality. The boy scratched the back of his head ruefully. “Oh, right… forgot about that.” He looked abashed as he jammed his hands in his pockets, and retrieved a wad of cash, a few coins, a pencil sharpener, and gum wrappings.

“Nevermind. You know what? I’ll give you the two-for-one treatment for now,” Dante said with a small stab of guilt. He looked up at Rias thoughtfully. “I take it you really want me to get this guy off your back.”

“My, my, that would be such an understatement,” Akeno said with a smile that suggested gentle teasing directed at her friend.

“Yeah, I shit you not,” Issei blurted out. “The grilled chicken was all over Buchou when he showed up yesterday. I still can’t believe they’re forcing her to marry that asshole!”

“Issei, why do you have to be so indiscreet?” Rias scolded her Pawn, flushing a shade of red.

“Grilled chicken? Are we still talking about the same guy, this Riser Phenex?” Dante asked. His debts back at Devil May Cry had been piling up left and right, and now Rias was about to pay him the largest sum of money he had been offered in probably his entire life as a Devil Hunter. On one hand, he welcomed the money as something he needed to continue the ongoing standing of his business. On the other hand, he wanted to avoid anyone else undergoing Asia’s fate ever again, regardless of whether they were human, Devil or Angel, and as such, he would’ve taken the job for free. Of course, nobody had to know that.

Rias took a deep breath before proceeding. “Yes, he’s the heir to the Phenex Clan. I’m the heiress to the Gremory Clan. Sadly, my father and Lord Phenex saw it fit to arrange a marriage, and conjoin the two Clans. There’s only one small problem in their wonderful plan.” Rias blurted out the following heated sentences in anger. “I don’t like him. He’s an obnoxious pig, and one that would only view me as an object.” She had to calm down by taking another deep breath. “Mine would be a sad existence if I ended up with someone like him.” She smiled warmly at Dante. “I challenged him to a Rating Game. If we win, then I’m free to break the engagement. And that’s where you come in.”

Dante nodded grimly. “I’ll gladly take the job.”

Rias looked mortified for a second. “Don’t look so serious, he’s not a monster like Diodora. He’s just arrogant.”

“And conceited,” Kiba supplied.

“And smug,” Akeno added.

“And a total dick!” Issei exclaimed.

“Sure, sure, I’ll try not to hurt him too badly,” Dante said with a placating gesture.

Rias now addressed her Pieces as well. “It swells me with pride that you now get to take part in your second Rating Game. I have yet to prove myself as your leader in a battlefield. Alone, we are all strong by our own merits. Together, Riser won’t stand a chance.”

“I’m calling it a barbecue day!” Issei said. He and Kiba bumped fists.

Raynare broke her sulking silence. “And what are we supposed to do then?” she asked, gesturing at herself and Kalawarner.

“Why, you’ll be watching and cheering for your beloved King, of course,” Dante replied. The former Fallen returned to fuming in silence.

Rias turned to Dante. “Unlike your Rating Game, this one will be a small, familiar event between the two Clans, so we can all take it easy, plan ahead, and not have to deal with the pressure of a big audience.”

Dante noticed the silent, bespectacled figure sitting in front of him shrinking back on the spot. The typically clinical gaze Sona Sitri used to study him with suddenly seemed mortified, and her cheeks had turned a slight shade of red.

Sona raised a hand gingerly in the air. “That might not be the case anymore…” she began slowly, her voice unusually small. “Somehow, my sister, Serafall, learned that I was going to perform as arbiter. You can only imagine her excitement. For some reason, though, she seemed even more thrilled than usual when she learned you were going to have Dante-san participate in it.”

“Wait, so that means…” Rias said, letting it sink in.

“You know my sister. She’ll spread the word around like wildfire. It doesn’t help that she’s a Satan. It just might be as packed as before.” At Rias’ shocked expression, she added. “Hopefully, not as much.”

“That won’t do well to my nerves…”

Dante’s wandering gaze had fallen on Asia, who had steadily, and outwardly, come to terms with her unique situation. She had been watching their exchange curiously up to that point, one of her arms entwined around Issei’s. He didn’t know the girl, admittedly, but he supposed it wasn’t like her to be that quiet. It only bolstered his resolve to trash Riser for sure. It also brought him to his next point.

“What about her? Are you going to have her participate?”

Rias gave Asia a heartfelt glance. “It’s completely up to her. We’ve been all over the basics. She’s adjusting, and she seems to have taken being a Devil pretty well. Hopefully, in the coming weeks, she’ll finish coming out of her shell.” She gave a small shrug. “The only thing we haven’t had time for is training. So it’s fine if she doesn’t feel up to it. All she’d do is stay behind everyone, including me, and heal those who retreat to the back.”

Asia spoke up in a small voice. “I think I can manage that, Rias-san.” There was something incredibly fragile about the way her gaze roamed to meet everyone’s eyes. Dante could admire the girl’s will to move on after such a traumatic incident.

“You know,” Dante said, switching topic, looking toward a certain white-haired girl. Under the mask of ice that she usually wore, Koneko looked surprised at being addressed, raising an eyebrow in response. “I met your sister yesterday. She says hi.” Dante whistled to himself. “She’s one odd character.”

It took him three full seconds to process that both Koneko and Rias were staring at him with pure, undiluted astonishment. The rest merely shared confused glances among them.

Issei was the first to break the awkward silence. “We didn’t know you had a sister,” he said, trying to give her an encouraging smile that evidently didn’t help.

Dante hesitated. “Am I missing something?”

Rias suddenly bolted to her feet next to Dante, and tugged at his coat’s sleeve. She sequestered him to the furthest corners of the clubroom. Once out of earshot, Rias dropped the bomb in a rather exasperated fashion.

“Just what kind of people have you been meeting with?!”

Dante shrugged. “Well, I didn’t meet with them so much as they sought me out.”

“And what did they want?” Rias inquired, arms crossed.

“Well, one of them basically asked me to repopulate her species-”

Rias held out her hand to stop him. “Don’t mention Koneko’s sister anymore, for her sake. You completely ignore the fact that her sister is a Stray Devil, and one of the Underworld’s most wanted criminals at that.”

Dante’s response was to shrug innocently. “Oops…”

 

* * *

 

The morning of her Rating Game against Riser was the total antithesis of the morning of Dante’s Game against Diodora.

Whereas the atmosphere had been tense, the suspense among her Pieces palpable, and the worry of losing them had burdened her spirit, that day they were greeted by a clear, sunny day. Issei, Kiba and Akeno were distinctly excited to begin, and therefore well prepared ahead of time to partake in their second Rating Game yet. Thanks to them, and some of Dante’s playful ribbing, what little tension that was bothering her was gone, and her spirits were lifted. The confidence they gave her completely outweighed the pressure of thousands of spectators watching, judging their every move and her every decision as a leader. Not only that, but she was completely positive that, by the end of the day, Riser would, as Issei had put it, be barbecued and ready for dinner.

The odd ones out were the two Fallen Angels that now belonged in Dante’s peerage, who, of course, weren’t part of the occasion. Asia had evidently recovered somewhat, and her peerage’s infectious confidence had affected the girl as well. If Dante did well in this Game, Asia had nothing to worry about on the field other than healing the others. On the other side of the coin, Rias noticed it was Koneko’s confidence the one that had plummeted, and from the way the white-haired girl lost concentration and seemed to zone out, she had come to the conclusion that the mention of her sister had left her in a fragile state. Whereas she normally acted distant and reserved, she now looked dejected and easily distracted. Rias knew it was going to take more than a heart-to-heart talk to have her Rook overcome this new, unprecedented hurdle.

At present, the white Lucifuge crest shimmering into existence announced the arrival of Grayfia, yet again to escort them to the battlefield.

“Rias-sama, are you ready to begin?” Sirzechs’ wife asked.

Issei was the first to respond in one cheerful outburst, jumping to his feet. “Hell, yeah, let’s do this!”

Her Pawn’s enthusiasm made her smile. She regretted not having had time to train him properly, and she doubted very much he would be crucial to winning the Game. The appearance of his true Sacred Gear, the Longinus-class Boosted Gear, had clearly had a positive effect on the boy’s strength and stamina. Sadly, though, it wasn’t enough to guarantee their victory without Dante.

“We are all ready,” Rias said, rising from her desk.

The rest of her Pieces followed suit. Kiba summoned his sword, gripping it by the hilt at his side. Koneko finished making adjustments to her combat gloves. Issei hooted excitedly when Akeno transformed her clothes into her _miko_ attire for battle. “I saw them again!” he exclaimed, pointing a shaking finger at her simpering Queen.

Rias picked up her Knight Piece from the coffee table. Dante bowed in mock deference as she inserted the Piece in place, her fingers dancing across his chest. “I swear fealty to you, O King.”

“Remember,” she held up a finger as though lecturing him. “Don’t be reckless, and keep the Piece from coming out.”

“Yes, mooom.”

“Again,” Grayfia said, waiting patiently in front of the oak doors. “I think it’s prudent to remind you who will be watching. Somehow, people got wind of this Game, and there was a sudden, sizeable influx of people who wanted to attend. It will be televised live, and this time, all Great Satans will be watching yet again.” She handed them out the communicators like last time, and they slipped them on in their ears.

“Seems you left rather a big impression, Dante-san,” Kiba said, smiling.

“One of the hazards of the job,” Dante said, shrugging.

“I say, let’s do it again! Let’s teach that grilled chicken a lesson,” Issei said, thrusting a fist in the air. “For Buchou!”

It was clear they all shared the same sentiment, and that made her happy.

As a group, united by fate, money and tight bonds of family and friendship that were strengthened further and further by experience, they all gathered together within the large, crimson Gremory circle that would transport them to the battle arena. Rias placed a hand on Koneko’s shoulder, and gave her a small, encouraging squeeze. Her Rook managed a small smile. Asia’s arm was wrapped around Issei’s as he led her into the sigil, and awaited teleportation. Dante’s Bishops each stood at Grayfia’s side outside of it. The Devil Hunter gave them a wink as the peerage began to vanish behind an invisible, receding curtain.

“Good luck, Rias-sama,” Grayfia said.

One second, she and the two Fallen Angels were there. A flash of light later, and they were not. It took Rias a full second to process the fact that the moderators had chosen Kuoh Academy itself to be the battle arena, and that they had reappeared right inside their Occult Research Club chambers.

“Huh? Did it not work?” Issei asked behind her.

Rebellion’s cutting edge leaned over Dante’s shoulder. He pointed casually at the window. “Pretty sure it did.”

The sky outside had taken a bright, jade color, and undulating waves of light glimmered with demonic, emerald brilliance across the firmament.

“ _It is my great honor to welcome your presence, Great Satans,_ ” Sona’s voice reverberated across the arena. “ _Sirzechs Lucifer, Ajuka Beelzebub, Falbium Asmodeus, and…_ ” A hint of hesitation flickered over the voice. “ _Serafall Leviathan. Welcome, Pillar Heads and everyone. My name’s Sona, of the Sitri Clan, and I will perform arbiter duties in the Rating Game between the Gremory Clan and the Phenex Clan._ ” Sona cleared her throat. “ _It’s fair to let both Clans involved know that both peerages are being aided by an outside Piece not their own._ ”

“Both?” Issei asked, alarmed.

“My, my, Riser’s being naughty,” Akeno said. “It seems he’s got something up his sleeve.”

“Who could it be?” Kiba asked.

“It could be anyone for all we know, really,” Rias answered. “No doubt it must be someone strong to be worth the trouble.”

“ _Now, onto the battle arena,_ ” Sona went on. “ _It’s an exact replica of the school Rias and I attend in the human world. Rias-san’s base is in the old school building, where the Occult Research Club meets. Riser-san’s base is located in the new school building, right across the school grounds. A Pawn entering the opposing building can instantly be promoted. Phoenix Tears will not be provided this time. You have fifteen minutes to gather and strategize-_ ” there was an intake of breath on the other side. “ _Wait, it seems Rias has already begun to move. Let the Game commence!_ ”

“Wait, what?” Rias exclaimed. “No, I haven’t done anything yet!” Her gaze flickered frenziedly around her Pieces. They all stared back at her, startled. “Who moved?” Understanding dawned on her. “Where’s Dante-san?!”

* * *

 

 

“This must be the new school building,” Dante said to himself. He slipped past into the door, under shadows, and up the stairwell to the second floor. “Voilà!”

The Knight Piece worked wonders on him. Without it, he was innately, superhumanly fast. Infused with its traits, he was a speeding bullet, a hissing blade. It had taken him a few meager seconds to cross the Academy, and reach the opposite building. It had even taken the arbiter quite a while to notice, and therefore announce it. Thus when he entered, the halls were completely silent and empty. Predictably, Riser didn’t have any time to set up traps and lay ambushes.

When Dante stepped onto the second floor, he could hear the panicked, muffled voices of several girls scrambling around the room and stumbling after one another behind the great oak doors that led into the principal’s office. They were unprepared, taken off guard, and unaware that the Boogeyman had come.

Rebellion gleaming with hunger, Dante approached the doors, and blasted them off their hinges with one powerful kick, sending them skidding across the floor in an explosion of screeching noise and splintered wood.

Some of the girls inside gasped, and others shrieked. Riser let out a girlish yelp in surprise.

“Someone ordered barbecue?” Dante said, stepping into the spacious room. The furniture had been moved to the corners.

Riser pointed an accusing, trembling finger at Dante. “That’s… that’s cheating!”

“Sixteen against one? Sounds fair to me,” Dante replied, flashing a smile even Riser would be envious of. He twirled Rebellion about his wrist. “Well, who wants first on the cake?”

The transmitter in his ear went off. It was Rias. “Dante-san, what do you think you’re doing? Where are you?”

He pressed a finger to his ear. “Killing sixteen birds with one stone. Pun intended. Be right back.”

Riser sneered. He adjusted the burgundy blazer over his white dress shirt. “You must be off your rocker!” He threw an arm out toward him. “Well, what are you waiting for? Kill him!”

His full peerage, fourteen girls in all, stared at Dante awestruck, paralyzed on their spots from the sheer power radiating from his frame. Like Diodora, Riser possessed a full female peerage, each member as different from the last. They varied in age, from developing teenagers to fully grown women. Some were twins. They ranged from brunettes and blondes, to auburn and blue-colored hair. Some wore Lolita dresses, others _haori_ outfits, Chinese _qipao_ attires, and others simple gym uniforms. From their hurriedly formed combat stances, the weapons they produced, their natural height and weight, their attires, and their overall anatomical figures, Dante could tell the Piece traits they were under. Fourteen girls total. One Queen, eight Pawns, two Rooks, two Bishops, and one Knight. The other Knight was missing. Just where was she?

Predictably, the eight Pawns took the vanguard. Fists balled, chainsaws revving, and staff gyrating in her hands, they charged headlong toward the lone Devil Hunter. Right behind them, the second wave consisted of support. Both Rooks and the only Knight rushed in after their Pawn counterparts, fists bared and Zweihänder leveled to skewer. Riser’s Queen took to the air, and promptly began bombarding Dante with spells that detonated upon impact, kicking dust into the air and dislodging slabs from the floor. The Bishop added her own firepower to the Queen’s.

All eight Pawns, the two Rooks and the Knight darted into the cloud of dust, hoping to find an injured Nephalem, dazed by the explosions at the very least. By that time, Riser’s Queen and Bishop had ceased fire to avoid hitting their own. What they found instead was the cutting edge of a two-handed greatsword with a screaming skull. Rebellion cut through the chainsaws like butter, dismantling their engines, their sawchains going haywire. A split second later, and the girls brandishing them were felled in one arching swing. It was only a matter of rolling into every one of them, and bringing down Rebellion’s punishing edge, slicing through wood, cloth, flesh and bone effortlessly. Each body vanished in a flash of flickering light as the Rating Game registered their defeat. The only clue spectators had of what was happening were the telltale shrieks of pain, followed by the speckling light briefly illuminating the insides of the clouds of dust that clogged the midst of the fight.

By the time it cleared, only Riser’s Knight remained standing, her Zweihänder clashing in a power struggle with Rebellion.

“He’s right there! Take him out, Yubelluna!” Riser yelled.

His Queen hesitated, certainly not wanting to hit her fellow Piece.

“Just do it, woman!”

A ray of light erupted from her jagged staff. Dante leapt into the air, and Riser’s Knight became engulfed in the ensuing explosion. When it cleared, the girl lay sprawling on the cracked floor, smoke trailing from her skin, her greatsword lying by her side. And then she was gone, too, in a flash of light.

“Woo, that’s cruel, even by my standards,” Dante said. His hand whipped down to his coat, and out came Ebony, firing repeatedly at the Queen. Yubelluna screamed as the storm of lead assaulted her, and punched her out of the air and onto to the floor. She was down, but not out.

“ _Riser-san’s eight Pawns, his two Rooks, and one of his Knights have retired,_ ” Sona announced in the lull of stillness that had settled momentarily.

Riser wasn’t even watching the resultant chaos anymore. His back was turned as he yelled into his transmitter. “Where the hell are you? We’re being decimated over here. I paid you for a fucking reason!”

“You needn’t yell,” the figure said, entering through the door Dante came from. “I tried to go after Gremory, but she’s well guarded. I came back as soon as I heard.” From his outline and voice, Dante could tell it was male, and Riser’s other Knight. “Ah, Sparda. You should make my day.”

“Well, Chun-Li here was pretty powerless to do anything,” Dante said, sticking a thumb out toward the spot where he annihilated Riser’s Pieces. “What are you hoping to do, kid?”

The young man walked into the room. His spiky, white hair swept backward seemed to gleam with the little light that entered the place. His katana slid quietly out of his black, lacquered scabbard. He wore an aristocratic, dark blue doublet, and a long, blue twin-tailed coat like Dante’s that rippled down his back.

“I aim to show the Underworld that you’re not the sensation they’re painting you to be,” the white-haired man replied. His katana sliced the air with inhuman grace, its tip aimed at Dante in defiance. “The legend of the Nephalem dies tonight.”

Dante’s eyes had widened with disbelief at the man’s physical appearance. He made sure to voice said disbelief. “Are you…? Are you cosplaying Vergil?”

“…”

 

* * *

 

It was a reoccurring dream.

Icy pellets of rain pelted on the two swordsmen. The only witness to their deadly dance of steel was the bright, luminescent moon looming over the jagged, unholy tower, ever watchful and indifferent to the outcome of their fight.

His sword, a mastercrafted katana whose edge glowed with inner, concealed power, clashed relentlessly in successive strikes against his opponent’s weapon: a two-handed greatsword with a black, screaming skull for a crossguard.

While his crimson, flourishing opponent used brute force and inhuman speed to his advantage, he measured each swing with finesse and worked to breach his opponent’s defenses with the swift, methodical strokes of a master swordsman.

Locked in frenetic combat, in a swirling, thundering storm of blurred lines, his eyes met his foe’s. Anger was written all over his features, in his scowl framed by long, white bangs of hair, in his nose crinkled up in unbroken concentration, in his whole body, staunch and adamant to crack his guard and go for the kill. His eyes, though, were another story. In them, he saw disappointment, confusion, ignorance and longing.

The catch was, though, he always won the fight.

With a finishing, reverberating clang of metal, the two-handed greatsword went soaring into the air, gleaming momentarily, flipping end over end and impaling itself on the stone of the tower.

Without hesitation, without a hint of remorse, he twirled the katana about his wrist and slid it soundlessly into his foe’s body and out his back, coating the blade bright crimson. The young man’s eyes widened with disbelief, gasping out a glob of blood and choking in his wordless scream. The katana slid free, and he keeled backward to lie spread-eagled on the shimmering ground with a splash, his blood pooling around him and diluting in the puddles of rain.

Questions always came later. Who was this man he had just slain? Why were they so intent on killing each other? Before such questions could be answered, though, He would always appear before him.

The bloated moon, the tower, the rain, and all signs of fighting vanished without a trace. The man’s gasping body dematerialized in receding particles carried away by the darkness, and he stood alone upon the howling void once more, as he was often wont to do.

From the gloom He came, adrift upon His titanic white, eagle wings.

He spoke, and this time in particular, his voice exuded triumph. The rumbling, godlike speech emitting from the gargantuan effigy still made him shudder to the marrow.

“Fate has favored us again. The two have come together once more. His blood courses within them. All flows according to plan. Come Lucifer, Beelzebub, Leviathan, Asmodeus. IT’S HIGH TIME THE TRUE SATANS RETURNED TO POWER!”

* * *

 

 

It was the gentle rap on the door what woke him up this time around. The drawling voice that came after it announced his butler had come with another request. It was not unusual.

“Master Vitalis, you have visitors down in the hallway” His voice came muffled from behind dark grain door. “Shall I tell them to kindly bugger off?”

Vitalis sat up on the edge of his king-sized bed. He had ordered the lousy bed sheets and fat, overflowing mattress away, preferring instead to slumber on a modest, average mattress and plain blankets.

“Who is this about now?” he called out. Within seconds, he had dressed into his favorite blue silk doublet and pants.

“Some kid from the Phenex Clan and his company. Claims he has some good offer for you,” the butler replied. “Were I you, master, I’d sweep the mat off their feet and tell them to kindly bugger off.”

“Phenex is a respectable Clan, or have you forgotten?” Vitalis bit back. He stared at himself in the mirror. He hated his natural hairstyle, the way the white bangs fell limply next to his eyes, and how his hair fell in lazy streams of silver at every side of his head. He brushed a hand over it and the hair rearranged itself, sweeping backward. There, much better.

“Indeed it is, Master Vitalis, but the Belial household far surpasses it in rank, wealth and status. I don’t see why you should bother yourself with these… with these plebs, if you will.”

“There’s a reason why my father and I stand as undisputed champions of the Rating Game. Experience begets skill. The more I partake in Games, the stronger I become. Also, I don’t think I have to remind you that my father wouldn’t like hearing that from you,” Vitalis said, reaching for Yami, his katana, displayed regally over the mantelpiece. With what little light that filtered into the extensive chamber, the lacquered, black scabbard of the sword burnished with immaculate splendor.

“Master Diehauser is ever the benevolent spirit, sir,” the butler said as Vitalis came out of his bedchamber. His tone had become slier than usual. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” If Vitalis hadn’t known him his entire life, the unusual glint in his eye would’ve left him unsettled.

 

 

* * *

 

“Leave us,” Vitalis said rather harshly.

“Of course, sir,” the butler bowed his graying head slightly and wandered off in the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion, probably to stare at some random wall and watch the paint peel off. If Vitalis knew something well about his butler, it is that he was off his rocker.

Riser Phenex broke his laidback position on the leather couch and scrambled to his feet the moment he saw Vitalis entering the living room. He went from owning the place to tucking his tail between his legs in less than a second. His companion perked up at his appearance. The man doubled over in an awkward reverence, and the girl followed suit in a prim fashion.

“Vitalis Belial, it’s an honor to be in your presence!”

“I couldn’t care less about manners. Cut straight to the chase,” Vitalis retorted, gracefully sliding into his usual tall back chair, sinking into the cushion. “You want to hire me as your temporary Piece, I presume?”

“Yes-” Riser nodded quickly and was interrupted by his host.

“Who’s your opponent?”

“The heiress of the Gremory Clan, Rias-” Once again, harshly interrupted.

“Don’t waste my time, then,” Vitalis said, rising from his opulent chair. “Surely, you can manage Gremory on your own.”

“That’s what I told him,” said the blond-haired girl. The two large, drill-like twin tails bobbed as she nodded. She turned to Riser. “You are very strong. I believe in you, brother. With the Phoenix blood beating in our hearts, there’s no way we can lose.”

“Keep quiet, Ravel, you weren’t at the Game between Sparda and Astaroth...” When Riser mentioned the name Sparda, a series of blinding images flickered in the back of Vitalis’ mind. Names he had forgotten bounced back from oblivion, only to ebb away from his hands like water the moment he reached out to them. “… he made his presence known. He unleashed it all for everyone to see. You could feel it like a living, pulsating thing, the waves of power washing over you, a sense of utter dread taking hold of your heart and crushing it beneath a ruthless hand of stone…”

Vitalis shook his head to return to reality. He raised a hand. “Let’s get back on topic, shall we? Who are we talking about, and why is it relevant to your Game against Gremory?”

Riser’s eyes were wide in a mix of fear and wonder. “The Nephalem, of course! Did you not watch the Game just a few days ago?” When Vitalis shook his head, Riser seemed genuinely surprised.

“My father watches them; he studies his potential opponents and uses that knowledge to obliterate them once on the field. Me? I don’t watch Games. I don’t sit idly by and allow my muscles to atrophy, let my power go to waste on trivial entertainment. After all, he’s the strategist, the King. I’m just his Knight, ever growing, always learning and improving upon my missteps. To reiterate, I don’t watch Games. I take part in them, and only when it’s to face an opponent worthy of my time.”

“Happy to hear that, because Gremory is not the opponent I had in mind for you,” Riser’s sneer spread wide with triumph. “I want you to take on the Nephalem before he becomes a bothersome thorn on my side.”

“Agreed,” Vitalis craned his neck to call his butler. “Janus, bring the paperwork!” He turned back to Riser. “If he’s part Angel, how do Evil Pieces work on him?”

“The hell if I know,” Riser exclaimed. Too late he realized whom he was addressing. Eyes wide, he covered his mouth. “My bad, my bad. I… think he forces them in or something.”

“I heard he can remove his Evil Piece at will,” his sister, Ravel, chimed in, her hands demurely clasped in front of her.

Vitalis creased his brow in thought. “In that case, he might be able to switch Piece traits between matches. Be a King in one, and become a Rook in the next. That is something I cannot do.”

Riser scoffed. “Rias wouldn’t replace one of her peerage, not even the pathetic ones. And since she still has openings, she could offer Sparda to become her temporary Rook, Knight or Pawn. Were I to bet on it, my money would be on him becoming her other Knight.”

“That simplifies things,” Vitalis said. He regarded Riser critically. “I understand you have a full peerage. Which of your Knights are you willing to replace for me?”

“Who do you think, Ravel?” Riser asked, throwing a side-glance at his little sister.

“Don’t ask me that,” she said, looking guilty. “I don’t want a part in their exclusion.”

“I got it!” Riser snapped a finger. “I think we’ll have to do without Karlamine. She’s just too sweet and honorable, it would get in my way.”

“If you think me dishonorable we can just call this off,” Vitalis retorted coldly. “True might lies in facing your opponent head-on and becoming the victor, not in backstabbing and subterfuge.” His grip around Yami’s scabbard tightened. “I will face this Nephalem, and defeat him in battle.”

* * *

 

 

There was a brief moment in which his opponent seemed to zone out. Then he asked: “Who’s Vergil?”

“Nevermind,” Dante replied, shrugging. “And what’s with kids and white hair these days?”

“My name’s Vitalis Belial, son of Diehauser Belial, the Emperor, number one champion of the Rating Game. I am his Knight,” the young man said, drawing out his katana in a heartbeat. Like Vergil, he had adopted the same Iaijutsu fighting style, Dante noted. “Before we begin, tell me. Have we met before?”

“What kind of question is that? I simply thought you were somebody I knew,” Dante said, becoming irritated.

Vitalis cocked his head to the side. “It is not the first time I see that sword of yours either.”

Dante eyed his katana with interest. “What do you call that? Yamato?”

Vitalis frowned. “No, but close. Yami, to be precise.”

Thudding noises outside in the hallway announced the arrival of Rias and her peerage as they burst into the room.

“Dante-san, just what do you think you’re doing?” Rias chided. She seemed to be having a hard time not swearing. “I’m the King. You can’t go off on your own like that without permission!”

Vitalis arched his eyebrows in surprise. “Dante? Sparda?” He turned back to his foe. “Just who are you? I’m sure we’ve met before. I remember all these names from somewhere.”

“She’s right there! Take her out!” Riser yelled, pointing at Rias.

“Shut up, I’m busy,” Vitalis retorted.

“I’m paying you for a reason, you _brat_!” Riser seemed to regret calling him that a second after it was too late.

“You paid me to defeat Sparda. You can take Gremory on your own.”

“Dammit!” Riser said, clenching a fist. He pointed at his three remaining Pieces, and commanded them toward Rias’. “Yubelluna, Ravel, Mihae, after them!”

Ravel, the small blonde in the Lolita dress, held up her hands in protest. “Brother, you forget I don’t fight. I’m just here to cheer you on.”

“Well, go cheer them on, for crap’s sake!”

“Akeno, take the Queen. Yuuto, Issei and Koneko, go after the Bishops, and protect Asia,” Rias said with the dignified air of a commander.

Each member of her peerage took off after their designated targets. Her _miko_ attire billowing, Akeno took flight, and leveled herself with Yubelluna. Dante’s firearm had left marks on her skin, and gashes on her clothes. Sword drawn, Boosted Gear gleaming green, and gloved fists balled, Kiba, Issei and Koneko stopped before Ravel and Mihae. If Dante didn’t know better, he would’ve thought of it as a bad case of bullying.

“Go, Mihae, you can do it,” Ravel was saying uncertainly, hiding behind her fellow Bishop.

“Dante-san, you take care of the Knight,” Rias said as she aligned herself in front of Riser.

“You gotta ask?” Dante said.

He saw the swift flick of Vitalis’ arm as he drew the katana from the scabbard, and slid it back in. Dante had less than a split second to react before the cutting gale of wind reached his spot. He felt the air tearing at him, the invisible knife barely missing from gashing at his coat as he leapt out of the way.

“Too bad for you, _little brother_ , I know all your moves like the back of my hand,” Dante said, a smile spreading across his face. Finally, an interesting foe. His hand flew down to his belt, fingers wrapping around Ebony’s grip, and brought it back up in a series of blinding quick-fires.

In an instant, in a flash that no human eye could’ve discerned, Vitalis’ katana came back out of the scabbard, blade spinning like a propeller in time as he dashed aside to evade the bullets that slipped past his deadly, whirling shield.

Dante used stinger to close the distance, and their blades struck together, sparks shooting off as both demon swords skated off each other in a dance of metal. Eerily enough, this encounter reminded him of the time when he and Vergil clashed atop the Temen-ni-gru tower. The physical similarities were present, but his memories were absent. His usual fighting style was displayed in nearly its entire former splendor, except for the fact that Vitalis didn’t offer the same challenge Vergil once did, but close. They retracted, only to bite at each other again, two-handed greatsword against elegant katana.

Soon after shit hit the fan, Akeno and Yubelluna had traded bouts of power, detonating spell bombs against tendrils of lightning. It had been clear from the beginning who the victor would be. Akeno’s lips curled with sadistic satisfaction when her javelin of light transfixed the opposing Queen through the chest and proceeded to fade out in ebbing motes of light.

Leading the charge, Kiba rushed into the Bishop’s guard, and halved the girl before she could cast the first spell. Issei followed second, Boosted Gear’s claws clenched into a fist directed at Ravel, who squealed and raised her hands in vain self-defense.

The boy stopped the punch at the last possible moment, mere inches away from the girl’s flinching face.

“Please, no! Don’t hurt me!” Ravel said, peeking behind her hands.

“I can’t hit her. It just doesn’t feel right,” Issei said, rubbing his elbow with Boosted Gear.

“I can do it for you,” Koneko said, shoving him aside.

“But you can’t, she’s not even fighting back!” Issei protested, putting himself back between the two girls.

The white-haired girl scowled. “You’re fraternizing with the enemy, Issei-senpai.”

“You know what?” Kiba said sheepishly. “I’ll just keep out of it.”

The three of them were taken aback when Asia suddenly walked into their midst. The former priestess looked curiously at Ravel’s cheek, a tiny bruise that had nothing to do with their fight. “Does it hurt?” she asked, proceeding to use her Twilight Healing on the opposing Bishop. Ravel recoiled at first, distrustful of her intent, but then she accepted it gracefully with a thin smile.

“Asia-senpai, you traitor,” Koneko fumed.

“She means it as a joke,” Issei quickly amended when the blonde turned quizzically.

The only two exchanges they had left to watch were the one between Kings, and the one between Knights.

Rias hurled massive orbs of black, demonic energy at her fiancé, who returned the pleasure with crackling fireballs. Much to Rias’ credit, she had gone long enough without getting hit too badly, unlike Riser. Her fiancé, on the other hand, had already suffered grievous wounds that would’ve been lethal against anyone else, were it not for his innate Phoenix self-regenerating powers.

However, the moment Riser did manage to get a hard hit on Rias, the crimson-haired girl tag-teamed with Akeno in their spell casting bouts while Asia healed her smoking wounds in the back.

“Give up, darling!” Riser yelled when Akeno took her place in the fight, trading coils of lightning and massive fireballs. “You can’t beat the Phoenix! Once the son of Diehauser Belial defeats the Nephalem, your chances of victory will be gone!”

Rias smiled when she saw how wrong he was. “You should probably resign before we beat you up too badly.”

Dante and Vitalis’ fight had been a close match ever since the beginning. That changed irrevocably when the massive wave of power surged all over the Devil Hunter’s frame as their blades competed in a power struggle.

“Tell me, _Vitalis_ , how much in touch are you with your demon side?” Dante asked, a dangerous smile playing on his lips.

Skin became demon hide, rock-like and bedecked throughout its frame with horns sprouting from his head and spikes protruding out of his arms and legs. His toes and hands underwent a burgeoning transformation, growing fiendish claws and talons in their stead. Scarlet, slit eyes shone out behind a deadpan, demonic mask. His voice had changed altogether, dropping its treble, leaving a rumbling, grating speech that hammered at his eardrums.

“See you on the other side,” Dante said.

Vitalis’ face contorted into a rictus of agonizing pain and disbelief as Rebellion shattered Yami, and sliced clean through his body, calling forth a shower of glittering light as the Game scored his defeat.

“ _Riser-san’s Knight has retired_ ,” Sona announced, her voice displaying as little emotion as she could.

Still in his Devil Trigger form, Rebellion leisurely resting on his shoulder, Dante strolled toward Riser. The Devil fell on his butt, and scrambled backward on his fours in time as Dante took a step forward. Riser came to a standstill against the wall, desperately searching for a way out that did not exist.

“Ravel, help!” he exclaimed, throwing an arm out toward her.

His sister shrugged, helpless to do anything. “Sorry.”

Dante’s imposing form crouched down in front of Riser. The discordant, grating parody of his usual voice only made it sound worse. “And for you, how much barbecue would you like?”

“I resign! PLEASE, I RESIGN!” Riser yelled at the top of his lungs. No doubt he had watched his Rating Game against Diodora, Dante thought.

“ _Checkmate, Riser-san resigns from the Game. Rias Gremory wins_ ,” Sona announced as coldly as ever. This time, though, there was a tiny, barely detectable hint of satisfaction in her voice.

“Well, that’s no fun,” Dante said, crossing his arms the moment Devil Trigger depleted, and he was returned to his red coat.

Issei hooted excitedly. “You did it again, Dante-san!”

It seemed a great burden had been lifted off Rias’ back. The crimson-haired girl looked visibly relieved as she walked hand in hand with Asia toward the gathering group.

“I feel like I can finally breathe again,” she said. The radiant, unblemished smile she played toward Dante and her Pieces was proof of that. “Great job, everyone, I’m proud of you. Dante-san… that was reckless. But hey, I’m not your master.”

“Since we didn’t get to have any barbecue, who’s up for some pizza?” Dante asked.

The smiles he received in response proved his life motto to be true. Pizza is love. Pizza is life.

 

* * *

 

When Vitalis emerged back into his living room, sprawled on the carpet, defeated, he gasped for air. It had been a simulation, but the pain had been real for a brief moment. Yami lay untarnished at his side. For a moment, he was afraid his beloved katana had been lost.

As he lay there, humiliated, his ego broken asunder for the time being, an unfamiliar voice drifted down the hallway, accompanied by his father’s, Diehauser, finishing up their conversation. He rose and stalked silently to listen, pressed against a bookshelf to keep out of view.

“… we’ll be ready for it, Lucifer-sama,” Diehauser was saying.

“Don’t lose sight of the boy. The time has finally come. We cannot afford to fuck this up,” the unfamiliar voice said.

“It won’t happen, milord,” Diehauser replied.

He didn’t catch their final exchange. By the time he noticed the muffled footsteps, it was too late to do anything. Eyes glinting dangerously, his butler, Janus, wrapped his arms around from behind him and pressed a damp cloth into his nose. Despite appearances, his butler was much stronger than he could’ve ever imagined. A split second later, drowsiness began to settle in, weakening his limbs, his eyes drooping, mind shutting down as it drifted into deep slumber.

Janus made a tutting noise. “Not good, Master Vitalis. That is not how we raised you. This is not a conversation for your ears.”

He lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Vergil?!


End file.
